


She is Clueless

by lun27



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Death Eater Draco Malfoy, F/M, Head Girl Hermione Granger, Hogwarts Seventh Year
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-10
Updated: 2018-08-03
Packaged: 2019-05-04 20:33:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 14
Words: 39,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14601153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lun27/pseuds/lun27
Summary: Hermione struggles with the pressure of war seething below the surface and her friendships are threatened by the insecurities she hides. She finds her world view shattered, when even Malfoy stumbles under the pending threat of Voldemort's dark plans. But that doesn't mean she likes the prick.7th year at Hogwarts. AU.





	1. She has Chores

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to add that I am not a native english speaker so the beginning of this story starts a little clumsily. I improved a lot in the writing process so I hope you won't give up on my story too early :)
> 
> There is lots of drama ahead, some mystery and a very slow-burn Dramione!
> 
> I want to thank especially Nora Fares and KoolStoryBro 13 for their continuous help with this story. There were others involved, but no one has been with me for so long :)

A loud buzz jolted Hermione out of her sleep. She jerked upwards in her bed but recovered quickly, realizing that it was only her wand alarm. Rubbing her tired eyes, she murmured the counter spell and got up for the day.

Before leaving her private quarters, Hermione took the time to make sure that her Head Girl Badge was fastened correctly to her uniform. Thinking about the more dreadful parts of her new job, she sighed. Somehow, Hermione had imagined this task to be easier, this year to be easier. Instead, she wasn’t as sure of her capabilities as she used to be anymore. It didn’t help that she detested the one sharing her position. Why in the name of Merlin they had elected him for Head Boy, was beyond her. As she hurried through the Dungeons towards the Great Hall, Hermione mentally catalogued her daily tasks. Frowning, Hermione realised that today was her turn. Shaking her head, she sped up her pace to divert her attention elsewhere. She’d deal with that duty at the appointed time, no need to ruin her concentration for the whole day by worrying about it.

When Hermione made it to the Entrance Hall, she spotted a still bleary eyed Harry and an equally tired Ron waiting for her at the grand doors. As soon as her friends noticed her, they waved her over and together the three of them entered the Great Hall for breakfast. Passing the House Tables they discovered that they were in fact one of the early risers that morning, except for the Ravenclaws, who were already assembled in little groups at their table studying or reading.

Once they were seated among their fellow seventh years at the Gryffindor Table, Ron instantly fell into a conversation with Dean and Seamus about this year’s Hogwarts Quidditch Teams. Tryouts had been the week prior, giving the boys fodder for conversation. Realizing that Ron was a lost cause, Hermione tried to get Harry’s attention, but he couldn’t tear his eyes off Ginny, who was laughing with her friends a few seats down the table. 

“You mustn’t forget that Smith is now in charge and promised retribution for last years’ fail. He wants to change his tactics completely and drop his last seeker,” Seamus replied to Ron’s question about the Hufflepuff team. “I’m just not quite sure who’ll take his place.”

“Who do you think will replace Summerby as seeker, Harry?” Dean asked looking at him expectantly.

“What?” Harry turned around seeming slightly confused by being shaken out of his reverie.

“Never mind,” Ron rolled his eyes good-naturedly at his friend and continued his analysis of the Hufflepuffs’ game tactics with Dean and Seamus.

Giving up on seeking her friends’ attention with a huff, Hermione made herself a marmalade toast. Didn’t they know that there were more important things than Quidditch? Reaching for the Daily Prophet that had already been delivered, she turned to page one. She had to swallow hard, when her breakfast nearly made a reappearance. Her eyes watered slightly, when she choked on her last bite. The article Hermione had spotted was listing two attacks frighteningly close to her home.

Putting the newspaper as well as her toast aside, Hermione pulled out her Potions essay instead, scouring it for any wayward mistakes. She really should be used to the dreadful news that reached Hogwarts week after week by now. But it continued to fill her with lung-squeezing hopelessness. It felt like a tsunami that you were powerless to escape from, announcing its presence with gigantic waves that conquered the horizon long before the actual impact. Hermione got the uncomfortable feeling that it was already too late for her to run. The wave would catch up to her eventually. How could she leave her friends to deal with its destruction anyway? Hermione huffed, her friends that didn’t even seem to give a care in the world, discussing Quidditch tactics instead of preparation measures. Shaking her head, she returned her attention back to her essay.

She could have helped Neville with his Potions essay, but he was off to the Ravenclaw table, trying to explain to Luna why Nargles could not help Snapping Grass fend off hungry Unicorns. Next to them sat Ernie Macmillan with his study group. The other Ravenclaws simply ignored the quirky girl who was swinging her amulets at Neville. Hermione could have an enlightening discussion with Ernie about their last Astronomy lesson, but seeing as they were not really friends outside of the classroom, she didn’t want to interrupt his breakfast. Nor did she have time to anyway. Her essays needed to be reread, of course. She would not let her grades slip because she was socialising at the breakfast table rather than adding citations and proofreading her assignment.

///

After a quiet breakfast, Hermione and her friends hurried to their Charms Class. When everyone had settled into class - Harry and Ron on either side of her - Professor Flitwick asked his students about the Tergeo Charm. Hermione’s hand shot up and before her teacher could pronounce the last syllable of her name she started to rattle off the answer with textbook-precision. She didn’t feel particularly proud, as she was used to answering correctly. However, she felt content at last, when Professor Flitwick awarded her ten House Points for her answer. Subsequently, she was able to answer three more questions and became irritated with the slow pace the lesson was progressing. Did no one do their assigned reading?

When Hermione finished her last monologue about the different pronunciations and their influence on cleaning spells, she heard hushed giggling from Lavender who was sitting directly behind her. The girl whispered in a strange, high-pitched voice to Parvati and Hermione realized that they were mocking her for her ability to cite textbook passages. Feeling a lump rise in her throat she swallowed hard to quell the sensation. Unable to suppress her humiliation Hermione’s ears heated up.

Grinding her teeth, she kept herself from turning around and scolding her housemates for disturbing the lesson, which would give them even more ammunition to make fun of her. They were just jealous, Hermione told herself and lowered her head to her notes. Staring at the lines, she desperately tried to concentrate on her last notation, but despite her best efforts the words were swimming in front of her eyes. 

Hermione’s embarrassment slowly turned into anger. In the wizarding world women didn’t know their own worth. They didn’t try to learn and study because they didn’t think they would need it anyway. They didn’t know anything, silly girls with their shiny hair and pretty painted nails. Hermione looked down at her own short cut and ink strained ones. What would they ever accomplish other than finding a man and cooking his meals while ironing his tie for work?

She wouldn’t settle for that kind of life. She was meant to be someone. Hermione knew it, because she was different than them, she was smarter. Never would she sit at home having litters of children she had to cook for and clean up after. Hermione wouldn’t throw away her potential to stay at home and do household chores. Lavender and Parvati would be content to someday sit at home and tend to their tots while gossiping, cooking, and cleaning. She might not get to laugh now, but she would be the one laughing in the end when she would employ their spouses and make changes in the Ministry to end the many injustices there. Hermione refused to let herself be pushed aside and continued to hold her head up high mimicking her hand in the following classes.

///

Leaving Ancient Runes in the afternoon, Hermione made her way to her office.

She was about to turn the corner, when she was shoved forcefully from behind, causing her to stumble and her notes, that she had carried to file later, slipped from her hands. In a heap of papers they scattered across the floor in front of her. 

“Try to not stand in my way, will you, Granger?” Theodore Nott said haughtily.

Hermione grumbled under her breath and reached flustered for her notes, fearing that they would be trampled, if she didn’t hurry to gather them up. Nott laughed and stepped on one on purpose, keeping her from picking it up.

“You are a witch, aren’t you?” he asked. “At least you’re blazing that presumptuous assertion around at every opportunity you get. But, Granger,” he leaned down, like she was an imbecile, “a real witch wouldn’t crawl around in the dirt if she can wave her wand to pick up her things.”

Hermione opened her mouth to deduct a heavy sum of points from the insolent Slytherin, when she was interrupted.

“Ten points, Nott,” the Head Boy drawled.

“Oh, come on! It is the truth after all,” he complained with an amused glint in his eyes, still not taking the situation seriously. 

“It is. But as she’s Head Girl, she can deduce as many points as she wants as punishment and you would have lost at least fifty for that. Now that I already disciplined you, she can’t give you a second punishment. That just wouldn’t be fair, would it, Granger?”

Hermione fumed.

“Also, I’ll have to listen to her ranting about how awful my friends are and why I can’t keep them on a tighter leash. You deserved it for that alone, Theo” he sneered.

“Just get lost,” Hermione growled and yanked the parchment free from underneath Nott’s boot.

Throwing them a last glare, Hermione trudged on to the Head’s office. To her great chagrin the Head Boy followed her, seemingly having the same aim. She really didn’t want to be in her office at the same time as him. Technically, it was their office, but she didn’t want to actually admit, that he had a desk in the cosy, wood-panelled room as well. He wasn’t worthy of his place in their office in her opinion. Most of the time he didn’t even use it to work on his assigned tasks or even his homework. While Hermione put her hard earned desk to good use, he spent more time there talking with his righteous friends. Often times some bint sat on his desk, swinging her legs and laughing shrilly at his jokes giving her a migraine and distracting her from her tasks. The younger female Prefects would occasionally even stay after meetings to flirt with the git shamelessly. Hermione was tempted to hex all of them into next week, but she was supposed to set an example of an immaculate student so she reverted to politely asking them to be quiet numerous times.

Once Hermione had dreamed about what she would do when she got herself a desk in that office. Now, she dreaded the office time. On top of his presence there came the everyday problems the Hogwarts students brought to their Heads. She had no patience for all the incessant moaning about schoolwork and wailing over unfair grading. It was not her fault, that they didn’t work harder, neither was it the teachers’. So Hermione told them to either get off their arses and start learning or go to the professor that was giving them a hard time and argue for a higher mark. That taught them to negotiate and stand up for themselves more than being mothered by her. No one would do that for them in the workplace, Hermione often told the students coming to her, before she send them on their merry way. She wasn’t lazy, she just wanted what was best for them!

Today, like every other miserable day, there was a young boy ranting about his Arithmancy project. They were supposed to complete the assignment in pairs, but he complained that he had done most of the work on his own and was appalled to find out that he and his partner received the same mark. The Ravenclaw spent a mind numbingly amount of time complaining about the senselessness of the project before he moved onto his partner’s brain capacity and then facial features.

‘Nothing new there,’ Hermione thought with an internal eye roll, thinking back of endless projects she had done the essential work for. Inwardly she pitied him because she could comprehend his situation well. Still, Hermione put on her best Professor McGonagall impersonation.

“Have you considered asking your partner to do his part, or - if he was unable to do so - to work on it together?” she asked critically and sighed when the Ravenclaw shook his head and shrugged his shoulders.

“I cannot run after Danny all the time, he should have just prepared his part and be done with it!” the pale-faced boy complained.

“And have you tried asking the teacher for help to divide the tasks?” she inquired. He sunk down in his simple wooden chair with bright red ears.

“See? Try solving problems on your own, before taking up time of the Head Students,” she lectured him. “Now hush, I have other appointments waiting!” Hermione sent him out of her office ignoring his questions on how to get his well-deserved grade adjusted.

Pouring herself a glass of water she leaned back to breathe deeply for a second, before she felt ready to let in the next student.

The infinite problems of the students put Hermione under constant stress. Why couldn’t they try to solve their problems themselves first? She was there to help, but sometimes Hermione got the feeling that instead of looking for a solution on their own, the students chose the easier way and let her do all the negotiation with teachers and punishing of classmates picking on them. It left her unsatisfied that they thought her capable of vanishing all their troubles with a swish and flick of her wand. Sometimes, she had the feeling that they had overly high expectations of her. She wasn’t almighty!

“Very sensitive, Granger,” Malfoy drawled, interrupting her rare moment of peace without looking up from his desk. He was actually working for a change, writing the timetables for the Prefects’ rounds. 

“Is there something you want to tell me?” Hermione challenged him with arched eyebrows.

“I’m not sure if you forgot, but we are supposed to listen to the students’ problems and help them find a solution. Not to tell them that they are the problem,” he responded flippantly while gripping his pen like he had to pull himself together immensely to not insult her.

“Oh, you would know! Who’s the bully, telling others they are nothing, but the dirt under his shoes?” she snarled crossing her arms defensively. Hermione didn’t have the perseverance he had to keep this conservation from turning into an argument.

“What’s that got to do with you deeming them a waste of time and not doing your job?” Malfoy asked clearly irritated and finally looked up at her.

“Not doing my job? I’m here, aren’t I? As opposed to you, Malfoy, who doesn’t think this task is important enough to show up when it’s his turn!”

His eyebrows furrowed together in a line, his irritation evident on his face. “I was late. One time,” he snarled.

“That’s what you say! You were just waiting for me to sub, admit it!” Hermione accused him.

He opened his mouth for an angry retort, but stopped and shook his head, “Whatever, Mudblood.” Then he got up and opened their office door. “Next one! Miss Granger is anxiously waiting to listen to all of your problems,” he called out to the students waiting in a long line out the door.

“Hey!” Hermione called after him and Malfoy turned around to smirk at her. “Have fun, Head Girl!” he mocked her, while a Ravenclaw girl slipped in, waving a library book with obvious splatters of pumpkin juice on it. Hermione groaned and pictured choking Malloy until he turned blue to avoid focusing her anger at the young girl in front of her.

“Have a seat,” she told her and carried on with her dreaded chores.

///

“Can you believe this?” Ron groaned at dinner while shovelling piles of food onto his plate. “It will take forever to finish today’s homework alone! How do they expect us to get through the rest of the week?” Harry looked worried as well.

“How much do you still have to do?” Hermione asked. “Have you already finished your work from last week’s lessons?”

Ron turned bright red at her question and quickly took a huge bite of kidney pie, leaving Harry to explain to Hermione that they hadn’t even started yet. Already expecting that answer, Hermione rolled her eyes. She still held hope that one day they would do their homework independently.

“Well, what do you have to do?” she inquired. “Maybe we can get it in order so you can work on the subjects that have the shortest deadline first and leave the longer ones for last.”

“I fink for Trewamey we hamf to do ose skar charts,” Ron remembered with his mouth still overly full with pie.

Hermione resisted the urge to lecture him about his table manners. She wasn’t his mother after all. Instead, Hermione ignored the redhead and didn’t even bother trying to understand what he had said around the pie he was chewing. She looked at Harry who had pulled a handful of folded papers out of his pocket, unfolded them and shuffled them around. He turned one page on its front and seemed to finally have found his notes on the assignment. 

“We have to list the relations of Mars to Mercury and the planets’ influence on the stock market,” he deciphered his own scrawled handwriting.

“You’ll have to see for yourself how to manage this task,” Hermione shrugged as she had happily dropped the farce of a class. “What else do you have?”

“There was something for Defence as well, wasn’t there?” Harry pondered.

“Do you mean the revision of Diffindio and rereading the chapter about how the spell can go wrong and how to fix it?” Hermione asked with eyebrows raised high. “Harry, that is due tomorrow!” Ron nearly dropped his fork and looked at her shocked and Harry seemed dumbstruck as well.

“Guys, really. You’ve got your schedules! You should take a look at them from time to time,” she shook her head at their ability to completely disregard any organisation or planning in their life. “You can read my summary on that chapter, but you’ll have to practice on your own because I am doing rounds tonight. Don’t worry, that was second year material. It’s rather easy.”

“Hermione you’re the best,” Harry declared with puppy eyes that made her smile a little.

“I know.”

///

Hermione liked the nightly rounds. It calmed her to see the usually bustling and noisy castle halls empty and still. She had already sent her rounds partner Anthony on his way back to his common room. In order to pass one of her favourite courtyards, she took the longer route to hers on purpose. She liked to soak in the sight of the peaceful night sky before returning to her comfortable and warm bed. 

The night was not offering Hermione the rest the clear darkness in the void among the stars had promised. Lying on her back, she couldn’t keep her wandering thoughts at bay. It riled her up to no end that Nott treated her like he did. Malfoy nowadays kept from openly insulting her without provocation, but he didn’t hesitate backing up his friends at every opportunity. How she wished that someone else would be in Malfoy’s place. Anyone else. She’d even prefer to share her position with a male version of Lavender over him! At the beginning it had been so awful to be forced to meet with him regularly and discuss organisational matters at least once a week, that Hermione had occasionally entertained the idea of resigning. She often lay in bed wide-awake, her brain still pumping incensing adrenaline through her body, after finally being able to retire late in the evening after endless negotiations and fights. Everything with him was an unceasing tug of war, a constant struggle for superiority.

///

Rubbing at her tired eyes and constantly suppressing yawns, Hermione struggled through the next day. She was glad, that Malfoy was in charge of the consultations today, so she was free to settle down with a book in their common room after classes, confident that she wouldn’t be disturbed for at least two hours. She would seize the opportunity to relax a bit before going to the library to finish her homework. 

She was interrupted far too early, in her opinion, when the Head Boy emerged from the entrance of their quarters.

“Granger, we have to talk about some serious issues.“

Sighing, Hermione took her time to mark the page she was currently reading and put the book aside calmly. She knew that it irked him, when she wasted his time, so she took great satisfaction in reacting as if she had all the time in the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter:
> 
> She sneered at him and got up, tired of Malfoy towering over her. "I won't stoop to your level, Malfoy. Talk to me when you've calmed down. I won't let myself be yelled at." With that she left to the library. Who did he think he was, talking to her like that?
> 
> ::::::::::::
> 
> Harry and Ron really are incorrigible regarding their homework :D
> 
> What do you think about my first chapter? Did it get you hooked?
> 
> This was initially supposed to be a short Romance for some writing practice and turned out to be a little longer than planned :'D


	2. They Fight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Previously:
> 
> "Granger, we have to talk about some serious issues."

Hermione had to suppress a satisfied smirk when she saw his jaw tighten at her obvious disinterest in whatever he wanted to discuss.

“What is so important that you come to me out of your own accord? Do you need help with something, Malfoy?” she asked sweetly.

“Careful, Granger, or I’m running straight to McG to tell her how sloppy you are with your Head chores.”

“Mac Gee?” Hermione echoed. “Show some respect, won’t you? Professor McGonagall wouldn’t even grant you the time to tell her whatever you want to complain about, if she knew how you call her!”

“Good thing, the old hag will never know,” he growled. “And I’m not discussing the appropriate way to address our teachers with you, Granger. We are talking about you not doing your job here.”

“Me- WHAT?” Hermione spluttered.

“Oh, you heard me just right. See, I really don’t give a flying fuck how you deal with your share of consultations, but I don’t appreciate when the students you send away come to me the next day to solve the problem you didn’t care to acknowledge.”

Hermione gaped at him like a fish out of the water. No way! “You mean that boy -“ she had to swallow. “He came to you today? Of all people?!”

“What has this to do with me? I refuse to do your tasks as well as mine!”

Hermione couldn’t believe it. Who in the world would go to Malfoy for help of their own accord? She felt betrayed somehow. Wasn’t she good enough for the insolent Ravenclaw? She had listened to him whining for half an hour! She had given him helpful advice how to handle the problem himself. Why in Merlin’s name did he have to go to Malfoy now?

“You’re sure it was the same problem? I’m certain he has managed to find another thing to complain about today.”

Malfoy scoffed. “Do you think I’m that forgetful? I was there yesterday, I remember exactly what his problem was.”

“You must have confused it with something else,” Hermione shook her head. As if that boy would go back with the same problem to ask Malfoy for help. That simply couldn’t be possible. She heavily doubted Malfoy’s version of things.

“You think I’m lying?” he growled and leaned in menacingly. Hermione had fought with him enough times to know when his tipping point was reached. One really wouldn’t wish to be around him in that mood. It certainly wasn’t safe for mind and body to keep riling him up at this stage.

She held up her hand. “Listen Malfoy, I don’t have a clue what you think his problem was and I really don’t have the time or patience to discuss this with you.”

“Don’t fucking act all patronizingly! I’m telling you to do your effin’ job!”

She sneered at him and got up, tired of Malfoy towering over her. “I won’t stoop to your level, Malfoy. Talk to me when you’ve calmed down. I won’t let myself be yelled at.” With that she left to the library. Who did he think he was, talking to her like that?

Hermione settled down in her favourite spot in the rarely used History Section of the library. She had discovered long ago that most students preferred being surrounded by the more interesting subjects. Hermione didn’t mind the contents of the books around her, as the promise of knowledge was calming her regardless of the topic. Opening her books, she began her research for her essay about the Devil’s Snare and how to pacify it until it became as tame as a baby Niffler.

Her tired mind didn’t allow for much concentration, however and she mulled over the problem with the consultations in her head. Instead of reading the texts she had researched, she pondered on a solution. She couldn’t simply let the students down. No one should have to go to Malfoy for help just because she didn’t have enough time for every one of them. On the other hand, she couldn’t manage everything on her own. The constant pressure was robbing her off her sleep already. When could she relax if not at the dead of the night, when no one could ask her to do anything? If only the more organisational problems could be dealt with separately from the personal and scholarly ones. Hermione had no doubt that Malfoy was perfectly capable of handling drawing up documents and dealing with the preparations for Quidditch matches with the teams. If she could manage to dump those tasks on him completely, no student would be forced to go to him for the more serious topics any more.

After what must have been two hours, she felt her Joint Mirror grow warm in her pocket. Professor McGonagall had given one of these magic mirrors to each of the Head Students as a means of communication at the beginning of the school year. Hermione didn’t want to use it in the quiet library, so she packed her stuff and quickly left her desk to use it without disturbing someone else’s studies. The wizarding version of a mobile phone was formed out of fine china. There were delicate and beautiful blue and golden floral elements adorning the lid, below it was fitted with a golden mount. It worked a bit like the fake Galleons she had cast a Protean Charm on to use for communication with the members of Dumbledore’s Army. As Hermione pushed through the heavy double doors, she opened the lid and Malfoy’s face appeared on the small glass surface. In his usual rude mannerism, he began speaking without even greeting her. 

“Granger, my friends are coming over tonight so you’d do best to steer clear of the common room.” Malfoy casually flicked a loose strand of hair from his eyes. In her most vicious fantasies, Hermione imagined hexing him a head of hair like her own that wasn’t looking so well kept and meticulous all day. It would be hell for him. She noted, that he seemed to have calmed down a bit, but typically Malfoy he still resonated an air of condescension, not even looking at her while speaking.

“Oh no, no, no. No! We’ll be discussing this!” she demanded as he rolled his eyes. “I’ll be back in the dorm in five minutes,” Hermione huffed.

///

A double-sided mirror rippled as an agitated Hermione passed through it to enter the Head Students’ quarters. "You will not use our common room as your private party location!" she shouted, motioning to the room in front of her. 

“I will use it however I please,” Malfoy retorted, not even bothering to look up from the book he was reading which irked Hermione greatly. He had propped his feet up on the table, making her twitch with annoyance. “What are you going to do to keep me from inviting my friends over, Granger?” he grinned, already knowing that she couldn’t do anything at all.

Oh, she would pay him back for that. Hermione dropped her school bag at the foot of the spiral staircase to their private dorms and took two steps at a time up to her room. Grabbing parchment, some ink and a quill from her small desk, she returned downstairs with the plan of implementing her idea about the consultation problem. She wanted to seize the opportunity of catching Malfoy off guard to wrestle this onto him without him even realising. This way Hermione calculated her chances at persuading him way higher than by discussing the matter officially. Usually they would not disturb their free time for Head Organisations but Hermione knew, if she made this an official meeting she wouldn’t stand a chance against his way of reasoning. So she had to play Slytherin and be a bit more sneaky and cunning about this than her usual brash Gryffindor nature. 

“Listen Malfoy, we need to rearrange some of our duties,” Hermione said, spreading her work neatly on the table in front of Malfoy.

“So you admit that you fucked up?”

“Well, no,” she answered and plopped down in one of the dark, wooden chairs. “But I need to make more time for our student consultations. The office hours clearly are too short to deal with every student. We can’t have them pester the teachers with their minor problems, now can we?”

“I don’t care, as long as I don’t have to do extra work,” he brushed her off, as he was clearly uninterested in having this conversation.

“That is exactly what I was proposing,” she nodded and critically eyed his feet still propped up on the table, pondering whether it was a good point to scold him for dirtying their furniture or if it would only derail her cause.

“No, you weren’t!” Malfoy growled taking his feet off the table and leaning forward. “You already decided on it. How about asking the Head Boy first before making decisions?” 

“Do you mean to skive off your duties?” she asked, looking at him menacingly. “Because I will not put up with that.”

“You insolent bint!” he snarled.

Hermione just raised one of her eyebrows at him with the signature Malfoy peeved look that only infuriated him further.

“Half an hour,” he relented finally, after they had stared each other down for several seconds. “I’m not doing more than half an hour.”

“I’ll see what I can do.” Hermione scribbled a quick schedule on a piece of parchment. Then she switched some around and erased some others. When she was satisfied with the plan, she made a magical copy and slid one over to Malfoy.

“Wait,” he eyed the schedule critically. “You added topics for every consultation? What’s this? Quidditch and other after school activities? Official matters? Personal problems and problems of academic nature? What is this Unicorn Dung? Over planning much?”

“It is my strategy of improving our consultations,” Hermione offered.

“And why the heck do I get all the organisational stuff? I don’t want to draw up permissions for every tit and tat all the time!”

“If you want to complain about the tasks involved with the position of Head Boy, you can ask Professor McGonagall to resign from your post,” she brushed him off.

“You are not the only one in Head position, so you don’t get to make all the decisions on your own,” he growled.

“I’ve always consulted you about my decisions like Professor McGonagall told us to,” Hermione cried in outrage.

“No, you haven’t,” he said hotly, putting his schedule down to regard her with a menacing glare. “You suddenly tell me that we have to make more time for consultations and take charge of the redistribution without even asking me about my opinion on the matter!”

She threw her hands into the air. “That’s because I already had it figured out! That was the easiest way to solve the problem.”

“Which fucking problem?” he asked sourly. “The problem here is you not taking the students’ matters seriously!”

“That’s not true and you know that,” she told him calmly. She was the one with the upper hand here, no need to give up on it because of his silly accusations.

“So why did you assign topics to our consultations?”

“Not all issues of the students could be dealt with, so I decided to expand the office hours. That’s only logical,” she skirted the topic. No need to tell him that she thought him inappropriate for the job to his face.

“You’re lying,” he claimed.

“N…no, why would I be lying?”

“You think I’m not competent enough, do you?” he scoffed, leaning back in his chair, rocking it backwards and balancing it dangerously on only two legs.

“What? No!” Hermione denied fiercely, withstanding the urge to push him and watch him tumble over. He always managed to hit the mark with his assumptions.

“You actually do!” Malfoy laughed. “Otherwise you would have distributed the tasks evenly, wouldn’t you?” he asked in a low voice, letting the chair fall forward again and leaning his elbows on the table.

Hermione pressed her lips together angrily. “Fine, I don’t think it is acceptable for the students to be forced to go to you for consultation,” she growled.

“When you’re the one who’s too insensitive to help them at all,” Malfoy grinned. “I can’t wait for this to blow up in your face.” Hermione couldn't stand looking at his smug grin for another moment, so she decided to barricade herself in her room. How dare he assume her to fail at anything at all!

///

They were in her common room! Hermione pulled a face at the thought of having to march past them to leave her quarters, but she had missed dinner and was growing hungrier by the second. Just a quick visit to the kitchens to get some delicious sandwiches from Dobby and she’d be good! 

Couldn’t Malfoy meet them in the Slytherin Common Room just once? No, he had to lounge out there, talking and laughing extra loud for the sole purpose of annoying her! She tied her hair and pinned it up into a messy bun. Not that a neat bun was ever possible with her hair.

‘Well, I can’t help it,’ Hermione thought, as her stomach grumbled angrily.

She threw on a light wool cardigan, donned her coat and made her way down the narrow winding staircase, catching a glimpse of the moon-lit Hogwarts grounds and the night sky through the gothic windows before the view was swallowed by the murky lake when she reached the lower level with it’s entrance to the dungeons.

“If that isn’t our dear Head Girl!” Pansy’s shrill voice greeted her at the foot of the stairs.

Hermione ground her teeth to keep herself from returning a snarky comment of her own. No use wasting energy on an airhead like Pansy.

“Are those ickle ducklings on your PJs?” Pansy squealed from her position on Malfoy's lap. Malfoy turned his head to smirk at her as she passed.

“Cheers, Granger,” he said, toasting her with a raised glass filled with a golden liquid.

“Is that alcohol, Malfoy?” she asked, her voice low.

“It’s Virgin Tears,” he grinned and Hermione turned bright red.

“Don’t dare me, Malfoy. We are not allowed to have alcohol.“

“Well, as a matter of fact this brand of whiskey is actually called Virgin Tears, no need to feel offended because no one took pity yet.”

Hermione felt her blood boil with rage and embarrassment, which she desperately tried to quell. Who cared about what Malfoy said anyway? Right?

“Whoa, look at her getting all worked up,” Theodore Nott remarked drily. “Guess you hit a nerve there, Draco.”

They laughed at her! Hermione took a deep breath to calm down. She was the superior one here, she reminded herself. Let them laugh.

“Well, if you have the urge to ruin your education for a cosy evening, never mind. But if you want to stay in school until you’ve finished your N.E.W.T.s,” Hermione lowered her tone to get all of their attention. “I advise you to be gone when I return and take that disgusting stuff with you, or I’ll tell Professor McGonagall what you are up to every other night.”

With that she turned towards the exit without bothering to see their reaction and left through the double sided mirror leading to the dungeons not far from a tapestry of a sneezing Sea Serpent. The cool corridors of the never sleeping castle greeted her with calming silence that bustled with the magic surrounding her in the walls and rooms of the century old building.

When Hermione returned, after having her midnight snack and bidding the attentive house-elves working in the kitchens goodnight, the common room lay dark and silent before her to her great surprise. She couldn’t restrain the small smile forming on her lips at her obvious victory.

When she spotted snack papers and empty glasses strewn all over the beautifully carved coffee table in front of the fireplace that was now nearly burned down, she stopped short, however. Hermione frowned and angrily made her way towards the mess to clean it up with a few measured charms. Typical Slytherins to not tidy up after themselves!

“Finally found your place in the world?”

Hermione whirled around clutching at her chest in shock to find Malfoy still sitting in one of the comfy armchairs turned with its back to the entrance. She hadn't noticed him masked in the shadows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter:
> 
> "You wouldn't want to lose your Head position, would you?" he asked without a hint of threat in his voice, but it lay in his words heavily and Hermione swallowed.
> 
> ::::::::::::
> 
> Typical Malfoy to blackmail her to keep her mouth shut!
> 
> I love writing Draco, he is just so mean! :D How do you like him in this chapter? Do you think he was right accusing Hermione of not doing her job?


	3. She's asked out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Previously:
> 
> When she returned, the common room lay dark and silent before her. "Finally found your place in the world?" She whirled around to find Malfoy still sitting in one of the comfy armchairs.

“What?” Hermione managed to croak out, still high on adrenaline from the little scare.

“Cleaning up after Purebloods, of course,” he drawled with a smile, sitting in the wingback chair like his majesty himself. 

The witch glared at him, “Careful, Malfoy, or my tongue might slip in front of Professor McGonagall about your little party nights.”

He frowned at her. “You really are making this difficult,” he remarked. “Are you disappointed that you aren’t invited in on the fun? Admit it, in reality you are just angry at your friends, for never asking you to attend their evenings,” he gloated.

“My friends, in contrast to yours are not drinking themselves silly until late at night!” Hermione snarled.

Malfoy just laughed at her. “You’re quite naive, aren’t you?”

“What do you know about what Gryffindors do with their free time?” she asked sceptical.

He leaned forward. “According to my last shag, they are quite happy with you out of the house, so they are free to have fun without judgement, Granger,” the Head Boy informed her.

Hermione winced at his crude language but snorted unbelievingly. Still, the feeling in her gut told her, that he was probably right and it somehow stung to not be familiar with her friends’ evening activities and the possibility of being excluded.

“Don’t get yourself worked up over those nitwits,” the blond said and got up to walk past her. “I bet those losers only drink cheap booze that tastes awful and makes your head hurt like hell.”

Malfoy turned around as if suddenly remembering why he had stayed and waited for her in the first place. “Next time you threaten my friends to not have fun, I advise you to remember, that I know all about your late night walks and your sloppy handling of the student’s problems. You wouldn’t want to lose your head position, would you?” he asked without a hint of threat in his voice, but it lay in his words heavily and Hermione swallowed.

“You wouldn’t…” she started.

“Would I not?” he interrupted her with one eyebrow shooting up, before he turned around and left.

Hermione was fuming, but she couldn’t help the situation. Typical Malfoy to blackmail her to keep her mouth shut!

///

When Hermione got up the next morning, she still couldn’t wrap her head around Malfoy’s behaviour.

‘The gall that git has!’ she thought as she flicked her wand to make her bed a bit more violently than necessary, scaring Crookshanks off the pillows in the process.

After the witch had chased her pet around the room to apologise for her rude behaviour with a hug that the cat didn’t seem to appreciate at all, she took her time showering. While washing her hair, she leaned back letting the warm water run over her face soothingly. It calmed her nerves and when Hermione stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around herself, she felt content with the world again. Let Malfoy try to goad her, she wouldn’t jump on it!

///

“Hermione, are you coming with us to Hogsmeade this weekend?” Ron asked her, when he plopped down next to her at the breakfast table.

“What? It’s not Hogsmeade week yet, is it?” Hermione asked flustered, putting aside the paper she was currently reading and started browsing in her closely kept calendar to check the date, while simultaneously taking a sip from her tea.

Harry, sitting across from her, shook his head no and watched his friend worried when she choked on her still scalding hot drink. “Steady,” he calmed her.

“The scheduled weekends are only in a few weeks. But we can go whenever we want to. We are seventh year now, you know?” Ron reminded her, as he shoved bacon into his mouth.

“Ron, I have a lot on my mind lately. I have to finish some homework and as Head Girl I have to organize the Halloween festivity. We can go next Hogsmeade weekend,” she reassured him.

“But we’ll be busy babysitting third graders!” he whined, clearly not looking forward to the Prefect’s duty of escorting the students on their way to the neighbouring village and back.

“Do you think I enjoy that?” she snarled. 

“I didn’t say that!” he defended himself. “I just think you should make a little more time for your friends, Hermione.”

“What do you mean? We hang out every other night,” she stated.

“Well, we learn every other night. No hanging out really,” Ron rectified.

“What do you propose we do? Play chess and chase some vicious Death Eaters? I’ve got enough of those in my common room, no thanks!” she said, adding the last part with a hushed voice. “Also you need the time to study. Without me you wouldn’t lift a finger. This year is important, don’t you understand that?”

“Course I do! I’m just saying that friends are important too...” he looked down at his plate.

“We are learning as friends, are we not?” Hermione grew more and more impatient. What the hell did Ron expect of her? She didn’t have time to play games and have parties. Maybe she was still a bit miffed about what Malfoy had implied about her friend’s after school activities yesterday.

“I get it. You don’t want to go to Hogsmeade with me. Why don’t you just say it to my face, Hermione?” and without waiting for an answer he left her gaping at his sudden exit. 

‘Who does he think he is?!’ Hermione looked at Harry for confirmation but he just shook his head again.

Her friend appeared like he wanted to say something so Hermione looked at him expectantly, but he swallowed whatever was on his tongue and silently continued eating. His mornings were usually most uncommunicative with his brain still muddled with sleep, Hermione conceded and didn’t inquire. 

When she got up to go to their first lesson, she nearly had to drag Harry along. He really detested Professor Snape’s class. Especially since the teacher had discovered that Harry was using the teacher’s old book to score higher marks than ever. It had provided the trio with some helpful spells, but Hermione had always warned Harry to not trust something he didn’t know. She suspected the contents to include dangerous knowledge. After Snape had caught Harry brewing with the book, he had to spend the following evenings in agonizingly boring detention, scrubbing cauldrons of first year students. It was a bit unfair, Hermione admitted, but Harry hadn’t come to her office hours to ask for mediation with their Potions professor so she had wisely kept out of the affair.

Todays lesson was surprisingly relaxed and they were even allowed quiet conversations with their brewing partners. Professor Snape moved from pair to pair criticising even the slightest nuance or discrepancy of colour, taking his time to condemn Terry Boot’s and Ron’s potion with exceptionally foul words. Hermione contemplated telling Harry about her Malfoy situation, but she didn’t want to whine. After all of her hours spent listening to younger students whinge, she knew just how annoying it could be. 

Leaving Ron behind, Harry tagged along with Hermione after the lesson, following her to her office. There she was storing some of her school books, because it was closer to the classrooms than her dorm in the dungeons. Harry plopped down in her office chair and leaned back, taking off his glasses to rub at his eyes. Hermione observed that he was unusually exhausted lately.

“Hermione, why are you angry at Ron?” Harry asked putting his glasses back on, while she didn’t cease packing her books while rearranging the others on the shelf. Malfoy had changed the order again, separating hers from his own when she preferred a clear alphabetical order. 

“What?” she asked absent-minded. “Oh, Ron. Yeah.”

“So?” her friend probed gingerly, leaning forward to rest his arms on her office desk.

Hermione huffed and pushed the last book back into its place with a little more force than needed. “He expects me to lay my life at his feet, that’s what’s my problem. What does he think I do all day? Count daisies? Being Head Girl is hard work, you know?”

“I do, no need to get all worked up over it,” Harry frowned.

“To do what?” she looked up at him challengingly.

“Nothing,” he drew back quickly and adjusted his glasses again. Hermione got the feeling that Harry liked his glasses a bit too large so he had something to occupy his hands with. She squinted at them, clearly remembering that she had adjusted them magically for him once. Harry squirmed uncomfortably in his seat under her critical gaze. Yes, they definitely were tampered with.

Hermione sighed and put down her books for the day. “What do you expect me to do? Apologise for my Head position?” she asked him sceptically.

“Well, no. Just put all the schoolwork aside a minute for that matter. He’s your friend, not just a study partner.”

“You want me to let my grades slip?!” she cried out. “Do you want us to fail the N.E.W.T.s?”

“No! And we won’t. Believe me,” he assured her holding up his hands in defeat.

“You will, if you don’t fix that attitude, Harry,” she lectured him.

“You know, life’s not all about schoolwork, Hermione,” Harry drew his eyebrows together.

“Oh, because parties and girls are so important, are they now?” She watched his cheeks redden and drew the conclusion that she had hit close to home. So they did have parties without her knowledge! Hermione felt some disappointment at being excluded by her friends. In her role as Head Girl she probably wouldn’t have joined them, but not even knowing what her friends did in their free time without her made Hermione fret about what else they kept secret from her.

“It doesn’t hurt to have a little fun from time to time!” Harry defended himself.

“I guess so,” she said, unconvinced. “But on the long run you might do better with higher grades than drunken nights and hung-over mornings.”

He gave up and slumped his shoulders. “Just please makeup with Ron. I can’t listen to his griping anymore.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” she promised reluctantly. Harry smiled and got up to leave, probably to catch Ron and have a similar conservation with him.

“See you later!” Hermione called after him, feeling a little lost alone in the empty office.

///

It took her two whole days before she managed to bring up the courage to apologise to Ron. But it wasn’t her fault that he hadn’t come to her himself, she thought in a recess of her mind. He had said things to apologise for as well.

Hermione encountered him on a rainy day on her way to the Greenhouses. She had left without Harry, who was still occupied snogging Ginny in an alcove by the Entrance Hall. Hermione had rolled her eyes at their apparent disinterest in getting to their next lesson on time, but had wisely kept from interrupting their intimate togetherness.

She spotted Ron walking ahead of her over the wet meadow towards their next lesson with Dean and Seamus. When she approached him, he didn’t seem to notice her as he moved on.

“Ron!” she jogged after him. “Wait for me, please.” Only then did he finally slow down and turned towards her.

“What do you want?” he asked impassively and waited for her to reach him while Dean and Seamus went ahead to escape the uncomfortable weather into the stifling and only insignificantly drier Greenhouse.

“I just… I’m sorry okay?” Hermione said and stopped short in front of Ron. “About turning you down. I’ve got a lot on my mind and didn’t think about what I was saying the other day.”

“Yeah, I already guessed so,” he said looking to the side at the marvellous landscape of the Hogwarts grounds. Little droplets of rain got caught in his hair and clung to his fringe, reluctant to fall to the ground yet.

Hermione was surprised, “You did?”

“You seem pretty worked up over all your schoolwork and Head tasks and Malfoy of course,” he rushed out as an explanation and shrugged his shoulders while wiping the rain from his face. “Who wouldn’t?” he laughed nervously and Hermione smiled a little, taking pity on him and casting the water repellent charm she had already used on herself before leaving the protecting roof of the castle behind.

“Thanks, Ron,” she said.

“Thanks?” he asked confused. “What for?”

“For understanding.”

“Oh that… had a long talk with Harry you know?” he answered, sheepishly rubbing his neck. “Told me to accommodate you actually.”

She grinned. “What would we both do without Harry?” she asked.

“Probably never talk to one another again,” he laughed shyly and she agreed laughing along with him and together they went on towards the Greenhouse.

“Ron, I was wondering…”

“Yes?” he asked and looked at her from the side.

“Well, do you guys have any activity planned for Halloween? I mean for after the feast?” she focused on the ground ahead of them. “You know, the upper years are allowed to stay up longer, and I didn’t plan anything yet and I thought that maybe you have some party or gathering as always, don’t you? So I thought I could come along, just if you don’t mind…” 

“I’d like that,” he interrupted her rant, smiling. “Actually the Hufflepuffs planned a night walk behind Hagrid’s hut, it’ll be fun.”

“Uhh!” Hermione shuddered. “I’ll probably scare myself to death!” she smiled. “I’d love that.”

Ron gave her a wide grin and held open the glass door for her. Inside the students were already bustling about, as nobody wanted to linger outside longer than necessary.

“Will the others be there as well?” Hermione asked nervously when she saw Harry slip inside and move to stand next to Neville just a few minutes before the lesson would start. “I mean, Harry, Ginny…”

“I think they want to do something romantic,” Ron pulled a face and Hermione had to laugh at that. 

“Then it’s good to have a distraction,” she offered and he nodded with wide eyes, that made her laugh again at the horrified face he made at the notion of what Harry and Ginny might be up to.

///

If she left the feast at nine it would be early enough to get a warm coat from her room and meet Ron in the Entrance Hall for the night walk, Hermione went through the checklist for Halloween in her head. She’d have to hand over the responsibility of closing the feast to the younger Prefects, who weren’t allowed to stay up that much longer anyhow, so she didn’t feel bad about that. That only left Malfoy to supervise them. She had to persuade him to do that on his own, whatever it might cost.

Hermione was sure that it would solve many of her problems to spend the evening with Ron. He would be happy and hopefully wouldn’t try to pester her about spending more time with them for at least two weeks. Then there’d be the last Gryffindor Quidditch match before Christmas, so another two weeks of blissful silence, as they would probably be practicing day in and out and she’d be content to study. The plan was perfect, she just had to manage to get Malfoy to agree with her.

She had seen Malfoy in Transfiguration last, but when Hermione didn’t encounter the Head Boy in their common room after the lesson, she reverted to other means to contact him. Impatiently she pulled out her Joint Mirror, opened the lid and tapped the surface with her index finger, feeling the magic of the device run up her hand instantly, electrifying the hairs on her arm. It took Malfoy rather long to finally open his Mirror and she was confronted with his trademark sneer.

“I’m busy, Granger.”

“And I need to discuss something important,” she retorted. “Where are you?” 

“Take a guess,” he mocked her, sounding irritated.

“What? How should I know? Are you with your friends?” she asked, squinting at the mirror, trying to make out what was behind him. But the image was too small to show much more than his face.

Malfoy glowered at her, “I’m in our bloody office, stupid cow. You should know. You were the one who gave me extra consultations!”

“Oh, right!” Hermione remembered that she had added this timeslot to his share of consultations. “I forgot. I’ll meet you there.” She quickly closed the device hoping that he would calm down by the time he was finished assisting the last student. She would need him in a rather good mood to convince him of her plan.

Hermione made her way to their office, entered quietly to not disrupt the consultations and sat down at her desk to listen to Malfoy dealing with the students’ problems. Usually, Hermione was disinterested in his Head chores and she would work on her homework or on plans for rounds and school projects, but today she waited impatiently for the last student to leave.

The Slytherin actually took his time with each of them, Hermione noticed surprised. He even promised to talk to Snape about a failed potion that was the consequence of low quality ingredients rather than the students’ incapability.

The last student in line was Niles Hanley, a lanky Slytherin boy with wide chin and narrow eyes. He was in consultation for the third time in a row, being the subject of endless discussions with various teachers and other students complaining about his bullying persona.

“Hanley again,” Malfoy drawled in a bored tone and fixed the boy with piercing eyes. Hermione envied him for his effect on the other students. If Malfoy wanted to, he could get all of their attention with only one sentence.

He got up, already impatient at the troublemaker and paced the length of the room behind his desk. “So you’ve found another poor sod to screw up?”

Hanley didn’t answer and wisely didn’t sit down either, but kept a safe distance from Malfoy by still hovering at the door.

“Listen Hanley,“ Malfoy said threateningly, stepping forth from behind his desk. “Either you pull yourself together and apologise to Mr-,” he looked down at his records. “Spencer, or I am kicking your arse into detention for the next five weekends.“

“As if I’d apologise to a fucking Halfblood!” Hanley spat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter:
> 
> "Let go of him, Malfoy. You cannot assault students!" Hermione tried to pry him off the boy without success.
> 
> ::::::::::::
> 
> How do you like Hermione apologising to Ron? Isn't he just adorable?


	4. She is Scared

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Previously:
> 
> "Listen Hanley." Malfoy said threatening stepping forth from behind his desk. "Either you pull yourself together and apologise to Mr Spencer, or I am kicking your arse into detention for the next five weekends."
> 
> "...As if I'd apologise to a fucking half-blood!" Hanley spat.

In a sudden motion, Malfoy moved forward several steps, seized the lanky boys loose shirt and pressed him against the wall.

“Malfoy!” Hermione cried out, shocked by his sudden aggressiveness.

“I’m at the end of my patience, Hanley!” the Slytherin whispered in a menacing tone, bringing his face close to Hanley’s while completely ignoring Hermione. “You’ve already wasted enough of my life with your little quarrels. So I dare you to try me any further.“

“Let go of him Malfoy, you cannot assault students!” Hermione tried to pry him off the boy without success.

“Alright, alright. I’m sorry okay, I won’t hex him again, I won’t!“ cried the younger boy, tears leaking out of his brimming eyes.

“Good,” Malfoy let him go of the frightened boy, whose shirt had been crumpled in Malfoys firm grip on his collar. Red splotches of shame appeared high on Hanley’s cheekbones and he hurried to wipe away the stray tears.

“Next time be smart enough to bully a Gryffindor and not your own housemates,” Malfoy growled at the terrified third-year who was nodding rapidly in agreement.

“What are you waiting for?“ Malfoy roared. “Out of my sight, Hanley!“

The boy was gone faster than you could spell Quaffle.

“What is wrong with you?!” Hermione shouted aghast when the door shut behind Hanley.

“Solved the problem, didn’t I?” Malfoy asked in a completely calm and uninterested tone.

He looked down his nose at her, while smoothing out his shirt sleeve to cover up the corner of the tattoo that had slipped out. Hermione had caught sight of the sliver of black ink on his left forearm when he had hoisted the miscreant up. She still eyed Malfoy’s arm nervously when his sleeve covered it again. Hermione knew exactly what it was and she couldn’t really get used to the thought of the hideous thing moving hidden underneath his shirt, under his skin, as thought it was alive.

“You were a right arse in doing so,” she observed, turning to face him, as he pushed his way past her towards his desk. “Punishing him for bullying that poor Spencer boy and in the next breath encouraging him to go and do the exact same thing to my housemates?”

“Well at least your precious little Gryffindors have friends to defend them and kick back, don’t they?” he growled annoyed with her attitude. 

Just like that his simple statement stopped her planned tirade short.

“Isn’t it you, who believes in them solving their own problems? I believe that is what I accomplished with Hanley just now, didn’t I?” he challenged her.

Hermione didn’t know what to answer to that. It was quite clever of him, she surmised. The Gryffindors would pay the hooligan back ten fold when he tried to do anything to any of them and he wouldn’t dare to mess with them again. So Hermione kept her mouth shut and turned her nose up at Malfoy, clearly disapproving of his approach on the matter.

Remembering her initial goal, the Gryffindor nervously shuffled some of her papers from one side of her desk to another while shifting from foot to foot awkwardly. She’d have to convince him somehow to take over her part of supervising for the evening, but she didn’t know where to start.

“What do you want?” Malfoy pulled her out of her reverie.

“What?” she asked innocently, turning around to face him again.

“Don’t play me stupid,” he said drily raising an eyebrow at the Head Girl, piercing her with an appraising gaze. “You didn’t come here to take part in my consultations, so you must want something else. I’m only asking you once: What. Do. You. Want,” he pronounced every single word as thought Hermione was a mentally challenged child. As could be expected this did not go over well with her and she frowned. Yet Hermione remembered what she had come here for and swallowed the retort she was about to give. 

She leaned against her desk seemingly unfazed. “I was wondering if you’d take over the coordination of the Prefects after the feast this evening,” she told him in a casual tone. 

“And you were wondering why?” the Slytherin asked in the same tone, mocking her attempt to copy his loftiness. 

“Well,” Hermione gave up on seeming unfazed. “I have planned something for myself, so I won’t be there,” she told him as a matter of fact and as vaguely as possible.

“Having a sleepover party with your books?” he mocked her.

She growled, “If you have to know: the Hufflepuffs planned a night walk and I promised to participate.”

Malfoy laughed out loud, until he realised that the Gryffindor was serious. “Oh, that’s gold,” he said grinning. “Little bookworm Granger finally has a life.”

She huffed, “If you’re just being an arse about it, instead of telling me off right away…”

“I didn’t,” Malfoy interrupted her calmly crossing his arms casually.

“What?” Hermione asked unprepared for such an easy answer.

“I’ll be delighted to take over your tasks,” he stated looking her in the eyes dead serious.

She didn’t trust that quite so easily. “What do you want in return?” she asked sceptically.

“Ah, you know the game,” Malfoy grinned. Hermione looked at him expectantly. “I want one evening in the common room for me and my friends without your judging presence…”

“Done,” she replied quickly.

“…every week until New Year,” he added.

“Wait, what? No!” she back-pedalled gripping the edge of her desk.

“Okay,” Malfoy turned around and slowly packed his bag to leave.

“Hey! What does that mean?” Hermione demanded.

“No common room, no deal,” he answered and made his way to the door.

“Okay, wait. You got me. One evening. I’ll stay in my room and leave you alone. But I need warnings.” Malfoy had stopped leaving luckily, but he didn’t turn around. “I mean, just a little reminder when they’ll be there and for how long,” she added.

“Alright,” he shrugged as if he hadn’t just won himself an argument and was gone.

That went smoother than Hermione had anticipated but she was a bit miffed at her quick surrender in favour of him. Well, never mind, she usually stayed in her room when the Slytherins were in their common room anyhow. She’d simply cast a silencing charm and burrow herself between her books. Hermione narrowed her eyes at that thought. How had Malfoy called it? A sleepover with her books? 

///  
The feast was a loud and chaotic affair. The students loved it, but for Hermione and Malfoy this meant a lot of juggling of tasks to keep everyone in line, especially as the Prefects were reluctant to help as much as they usually would. They preferred to hang around their friends of course, but responsibility didn’t go on holiday so Hermione shooed them away from their cliques regularly to help enact order.

Her own friends left the feast quite early anyway as most of them had their own activities planned for the night. Harry and Ginny had reserved a spot on the Astronomy Tower and Ron wanted to prepare a little surprise for their night walk later.

When the festivity in the Great Hall finally died down a bit as the older years had already moved onto their private activities and only the younger students were still in the Great Hall enjoying the late curfew, Hermione got ready to leave as well. She took a last look at the younger students sitting at the four House Tables and noticed that they had mixed quite a lot. Some Ravenclaws had moved to sit at the Slytherin table for a round of Exploding Snap and some Hufflepuffs were impressed by first-year Gryffindors balancing cups of pumpkin juice on their foreheads until a third-year Slytherin accidently bumped into them, draining them in the sticky drink. She wrinkled her nose and glanced at Malfoy, staying behind with the fifth year Prefects. He was currently talking to a pretty Ravenclaw girl instead of keeping an eye on the students around him.

The Head Boy would take charge of supervising the compliance with the curfew tonight, like they had stipulated. The curly-haired witch told herself that she didn’t have to worry about how he managed to establish order. She really shouldn’t worry, but she’d rather stay behind to oversee and enact the curfew - that was extended especially for this occasion - herself. But Hermione resolved that she had to do this. On the one hand she had agreed to meet with Ron and on the other this would likely promise Hermione free time for the next weeks to delve deep into her studies without disruption and fights, that always managed to steal her concentration and rob her of her peace of mind.

Truth was, despite handing himself over to the Ministry for taking the Dark Mark and Dumbledore assuring them that he had never actively worked for Voldemort, Hermione didn’t trust Malfoy. Not even with the simple task of supervising youngsters. He was born into this legacy of fanaticism and hate and just because Voldemort didn’t care to make use of his newest member, Malfoy was still the same bully he had been at eleven.

She made her way through the great doors into the Entrance Hall where Ron was already waiting by the Main Entrance waving Hermione over before he pulled her into a darker corner and swung a cloak over her head. She recognized Harry’s invisibility cloak instantly and looked up at her friend questioningly as he pulled her out of their hiding spot. Ron indicated her to keep quiet when they followed a group of students on their way outside to slip through the Main Entrance before the heavy doors closed behind them. The two disguised Gryffindors fell back a few paces and followed them towards the back of the castle, down to Hagrid’s Hut.

“I thought we might scare them a bit,” Ron whispered grinning.

Hermione linked arms with him to fall in pace beside the redhead and shared his devilish grin. This was more exciting than she had anticipated. 

In the distance they could already make out a group of Hufflepuffs standing by the edge of the forest behind Hagrid’s Hut. Some of them carried torches while others used their wands to light the way instead. Stealthily they approached the group of students and Ron pulled her behind some trees to wait for the right moment to scare the living shit out of them. Hermione felt like she was twelve years again doing mischief together with her best friends.

The Hufflepuffs they were observing from their hiding spot were still preparing the route through the edge of the forest. No younger students were allowed obviously, as they had promised an extra scary experience for only the bravest of them all. A whole flock of Gryffindors had agreed to come at that promise, not surprisingly.

Wayne Hopkins, one of the more recognizable Hufflepuffs, stepped forward to greet the group before him and instructed them to their assigned posts on the night walk, informing them about the jinxes they were meant to aim at the brave travellers of what he called the ‘ghost path’.

“We have marked the path with grave candles so no one gets lost. Nevertheless I want to remind you to look out for the other students. We promised Professor Sprout to bring everyone back safely,” he explained to his fellow housemates.

They nodded impatiently. Everyone seemed to be looking forward to scaring their friends from the other Houses.

“Now that everything is clear we can start hiding. Everybody got a number which marks the candle where you have to find a hiding spot and wait for someone to pass by that you can scare. We’ll start from this point and right there-“ he turned towards the forest and pointed into the darkness at a small flame flickering behind red glass. “is our first candle.” Hopkins remained in that position - his finger pointed in the direction where two red dots had appeared between the shrubs, gleaming menacingly at the Hufflepuffs who shuffled their feet, nervously straining their necks to look around Hopkins.

“What’s that?” Hermione heard Hannah Abbott whisper when Hopkins stepped forward his wand raised bravely.

Hermione had to pull herself together to not laugh out loud at their nervous twitches when Ron imitated a low growling that gave even her goose bumps. Hopkins took a step back at the terrifying noise and his wand hand was shaking visibly. It sure must be a scary sight, when Hermione made the small light bulbs move in unison to give the impression of the eyes of a large animal moving closer. She then extinguished the magical lights, leaving the Hufflepuffs to stare into the dark between the trees, where only the lonely grave candle was flickering.

Hopkins licked his lips nervously. “Ahhem, well, we better start preparing before the others arrive.”

“Are you kidding?” Kevin Whitby asked, eyes wide and still searching for the beast he assumed to lurk among the trees of the intimidating forest.

“Don’t get yourself worked up, that’s only your imagination, there’s nothing big so close to the castle. That’s probably just Fairy Lights,” Hopkins scolded him, probably trying to reason with himself as well.

“Okay,” Whitby answered unconvinced and the group slowly made their way to their assigned spots, keeping watchful eyes on the forest around them.

One after the other disappeared into the scrubs when they had reached the candle they were assigned to. Hermione and Ron followed until the already scared Whitby was the only one left to continue on the path towards his candle. They had found the ideal victim and continued to follow him without even trying to conceal their steps. So when he had moved far enough from the others Whitby started to turn around nervously to make out the source of the noise they made. When he stopped they stopped one step after him and they had him soon turning about panicking.

“Who’s there?” the Hufflepuff called into the dark, looking at a spot slightly off to their left. “Hello?”

“Shut up, will you?” a voice came from behind him and he whirled around squealing only to discover Hannah Abbott emerging from the shrubs. 

“Oh, it was only you,” he exhaled relieved.

“Who?” Hannah asked, but didn’t wait for an answer. “Come on, let’s hide,” she pulled him along.

Ron and Hermione were a bit crestfallen to have missed that opportunity so they decided to watch the show for a bit from a safe distance. They settled down close to the path, still covered by Harry’s Invisibility Cloak to wait until the first wanderers appeared. After a while they could hear the first voices approaching. The two recognized Seamus and Dean who were whispering encouragingly at each other to continue down the scary path.

Hermione was quite impressed by the spell work the Hufflepuffs put into it. They gave the Gryffindors quite a fright with crawling fog and whimpering noises. Even the Bloody Baron made his presence known to the squealing students at one point of the path. All in all Hermione was quite happy, that they didn’t have to go on the night walk themselves. She might be brave, she was a real Gryffindor of course, but there was no need to stress her nerves unnecessarily.

When the steady trickle of students passing by slowly ran dry, Hermione and Ron recognized some of the younger Gryffindors that had managed to make their way outside and illicitly join the night walk. They followed the naughty students and continued in their pursuit even after they had reached the last candle lighting the way and therefore marking the end of the night walk. When the bold Gryffindors already deemed themselves safe from further scares and started bragging about their bravery while slowly returning towards the secure castle, Hermione conjured an ice cold breeze to give them goose bumps and Ron growled lowly, “You are not allowed to be here.” They screamed, horrified by the bodiless voice and stumbled to get away. Ron and Hermione pulled of the cloak laughing until their guts hurt.

“That was fun,” she told Ron grinning and safely pocketed her wand in the shaft of her left boot.

“Right?” he said. “So now that you realized that I’m guaranteed fun company, do you want to join me to Hogsmeade next weekend?” he looked at her expectantly.

Hermione fidgeted. “Actually,” she said, looking around. “I was hoping to get some free time to revise the first half of our studies. Isn’t this enough for the week?” she asked.

He frowned at her. “Actually,” Ron imitated her with a nasty twist in his voice. “If your time with me feels so all consuming and takes all your opportunity to study, you should rethink your priorities and just quit all your friendships, Hermione.”

“No!” she said quickly, reaching for Ron as he already turned to leave. “I mean that isn’t what I meant. I just thought like once a week we do something and then you do your Quidditch and stuff…”

“You made timetables for your social life now?” he turned around angrily. “You know, Hermione, when you don’t want to spend time with your friends, it’s okay. Just maybe stop pretending to like having fun and start being the stuck up bore you really are. No need lying about yourself, is there?” he asked nastily.

She felt her lungs quench in her chest. He hadn’t just said that, had he? That’s what Ron thought about her? Well, Malfoy did. But Ron knew her better, didn’t he? He liked her for who she was, right? Hermione shook her head and tears fell loose from her lashes. Hiding them she turned around and ran. Ron didn’t even call after her, probably didn’t care. She didn’t care, she knew! She just wanted to be left alone. If they wanted her to, she’d love to be a stuck up bore! She enjoyed being on her own! She did!

Hermione ran until she was exhausted and sank to the ground, tears still spilling from her eyes as sobs wracked her body and she hugged herself. After a while she became still and took deeper breaths. Hermione was calm at first, but she could feel seconds ticking by and her sense returning slowly. When she looked around the Gryffindor suddenly wasn’t so calm anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter:
> 
> "I'm begging you. Help me. I'm lost." The tears shook her body again and it had started raining.
> 
> ::::::::::::
> 
> How did you like the idea of the night walk? Does it fit the Halloween Theme? :) Next chapter will be scary!


	5. She is Lost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello everybody!
> 
> This chapter is one of my favourites so far, I hope you like it :) Leave me a review if you do, or if you don't. Criticism is always appreciated.
> 
> Sorry about posting the same chapter twice :O And thank you Sperma (brave of you to choose that name :D ) for pointing it out :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Previously:
> 
> Hermione ran until she was exhausted. When she looked around, the Gryffindor suddenly wasn't so calm anymore.

She was surrounded by trees standing closely together with thick scrub growing between them, making it impossible to see further than a few strides. Hermione realised that she was lost. She was undoubtedly lost. Panic seized her lungs and squeezed her fluttering heart. Suddenly, she felt the same damp fear that she had felt in the ministry’s dark catacombs with Death Eaters breathing down her neck and lingering behind every corner. Only this time she was alone. Utterly on her own. Lonely. 

‘Stop it!’

She heaved heavy breaths, still kneeling on the forest floor to calm herself. But that didn’t help the oxygen flow so much as make her sides spike painfully from her protesting lungs. Somehow, she managed to drown the paralyzing fear back into its cave, where it lingered, waiting to crawl back out and overtake her cold limbs.

Okay. She could do this. She was clever right? And nothing was after her, right? 

Hermione wasn’t sure. She had heard something, when she had run. But that was a while ago already. Whatever creatures’ path she had crossed had probably turned tail at the sight of her and fled into the woods as well. 

Or it followed her, at a more leisurely pace, keeping quiet and watchful. Waiting for it’s opportunity to-

Hermione shook her head. Panicking now wouldn’t help her. She had to think. Think fast! But she didn’t remember. She couldn’t for the life of her remember how she managed to get those flashes of genius, fruitful inspiration, and clever ideas. She didn’t know how! How could she concentrate over heavy tomes and long rolls of papyrus, but not now, when her breaths shuttered strain and her muscles cramped with the need for action?

With icy hands, she roamed her pockets fruitlessly. Her wand was gone. Where the heck had she lost it? Hermione picked up a stick, to feel the calming familiarity, but the wood felt unfamiliar and lumpy. No smooth surface with carved ornaments and runes. Instead, she picked at the harsh bark until a splinter ran deep under her nail and she let the stick drop, whimpering and sucking at the pain. Hermione hugged herself again, turning about and pressing deeper into the bushes on the ground, seeking shelter from the daunting darkness in even gloomier places.

Again, she searched her pockets for that damned wand. It wasn’t there, but neither were they empty. Her hand closed around the uncomforting but familiar object, pulling it out and pressing it to her face, seeking familiarity and safety that it couldn’t give her. But the surface was smooth and cool, soothing the skin of her feverish cheeks. Hermione concentrated on the feeling of the lid on her cheek while she listened to the woods.

She breathed in and out. Somehow the scents were comforting too, if she let them. They were natural and moist, reminding her of the dungeons of her castle. In the past, she liked that place least of all in the ancient gothic building, preferring hidden gardens and lonely halls with huge windows instead. But ever since her common room was relocated to the dungeons, the place felt soothingly dark and peaceful to her, reminding her of hot chocolate and chimney fire and dives in the lake. The Head Girl felt the adrenaline recede, exhaustion from her run seeping into her bones and mind. She blinked a few times and wrenched her eyes wide open to remind her body to stay alert.

Hermione held up a hand to see how dark it had gotten. She still could make out everything, but the colours had long faded out. As she peered at the object she was holding, at the beautiful floral print with golden ornaments, her brain started working again in the manner she was accustomed to. At that moment, she could have hit herself for her stupidity. Of course she had something useful! It was right there in her hand. 

She pulled the lid open and stared into the little mirror. Hermione paused and thought about what this meant. He would laugh at her, mocking her for getting lost like a little child and asking him of all people for help. Heck, he probably wouldn’t even show up. He’d happily let her rot to death here. But again she scolded herself. Now was not the time to be proud and let this chance go. She’d have enough time to feel shame later in the safe warmth of her bed, covered by heavy blankets protecting her like an indestructible metal tank.

She tapped the glass of her Joint Mirror and watched as it broke into small ripples like the surface of water when it begins to rain.

And she prayed. Her. Unholy witch who never visits a church, not even on Christmas. But pray she did. She didn’t quite know which god to address, so she picked several she had read about. Was Merlin considered a god? Could you pray to him? She’d have to look that up, she made a mental note. She really was desperate, so she prayed to him anyway and begged to be saved. 

“What?” broke a grumpy voice her ignominious prayers.

“Malfoy!” Hermione cried out, relieved and a bit too loud, so she ducked her head and looked around fearfully. He seemed impatient and shot her a glare. “Malfoy, I- I’m lost. I need somebody to find me. You need to go to Harry, tell him I’m in the forest.”

“Listen, I’m not your lackey. Talk to your mighty saviour yourself.”

“I’m not kidding!”

“So now you think you can order me around? Think again, Mudblood.”

She cringed. “Okay, I’m sorry. But I’m not ordering you, I’m asking you to help me.”

“Doesn’t sound like it to me,” he replied, slowly shutting his mirror.

“Wait! Wait. Please,” Hermione started to cry, and it was hard to form words in her tight throat. “I’m begging you. Help me. I’m lost.” The tears shook her body again and it had started raining. Little raindrops rolled parallel to the tears down her hair and fell on her neck. She cringed and whimpered uncomfortably at the cold sensation. Hermione wished for her wand to cast a warming charm and something to repel the rain.

Malfoy said nothing for a moment, just looking at her, and she felt like just closing the little mirror and lying down to die.

“Are you crying, Granger?” he asked.

She shook her head, but more tears welled up, and she had to bite her lip to keep quiet.

He sighed. “How do you propose I get into Gryffindor Tower and to Potter at this time? It’s not like I’m welcome there when the sun is up. It’d be my death to waltz in at night.”

“Just- I don’t know. Just do anything, please,” she begged whispering.

“Where are you?”

“Don’t know… somewhere in the Forbidden Forest. I- I ran p-pretty far, I think,” she hiccupped.

“What are you doing in the bloody forest? Can’t you just use your wand?” he sounded impatient now, yet begrudgingly resigned, as thought an idea just occurred to him that he really wasn’t looking forward to.

“I lost it,” Hermione sniffed.

“Alright.” He seemed to be moving now, his image shaking in the little glass. “Just- stay put, okay?”

“Okay,” she nodded.

Malfoy was getting help. Someone would come. Harry would find her. Hope exploded like a bomb in her chest, and she shut her eyes for a moment to plunge in the relief. She wiped at her cheeks, looking back at the little mirror. The image of Malfoy’s face was gone, he must have closed it again. Strangely, she would have preferred it if he had continued to talking to her. Just so she wouldn’t feel alone. It was so damn scary!

Thus, Hermione waited. Slowly, the silhouettes of the trees melted into the blackness of the night. She wondered if anyone would even be able to find her in this darkness. Hermione began to question her choice of asking Malfoy for help. She bet he climbed the Hogwarts stairs at a leisurely pace. Except, she couldn’t picture that, because he never walked leisurely. He always made long, determined strides, always walking with purpose. In every step swung the ancestral pride that was etched into his very heart.

Hermione got lost in that thought. Everything was better than thinking about what was around her, what was crawling the ground, what was wheezing and rustling the leaves. It could have been herself, she wasn’t sure. Instead, she focused on the image of Malfoy walking through the castle halls, waking the portrait of the chatty Sir Cadogan. The clumsy knight with his fat pony would promise to alert Harry and run ahead. He would jump from frame to frame, only to take the wrong turn and forget his initial aim, when coming across a pretty lady weaving floral wreaths. But Malfoy would know not to trust his flimsy persona and continue up to the tower, wouldn’t he? He would reach the portrait of the Fat Lady just in time to see someone opening it and call after them. They would argue, wouldn’t let him inside, and Malfoy would rant and threaten them. Finally, they would send out Harry, as he’d demanded and then Harry would know. Her Harry would come to find her, save her. 

He should have been here by now. He should have called for her, and Hermione would have heard it. But it stayed silent. The dense blanket of clouds slowly opened up, revealing a sliver of the silver moon. It’s eerie light created distorted shadows and shapes among the trees. Hermione started rocking forwards and backwards slowly. She was freezing! 

Suddenly, she heard leaves crumble to her right, and she quickly ducked her head lower. She could just barely make out something in the pale moonlight. It was large and moved slowly in her direction. She held her breath.

‘Not now. Please not now,’ Hermione begged silently. ‘Harry will be here any minute now.’ Just a few minutes longer and she’d be saved.

Her muscles were cramped from crouching down so long, but now they were flooded with blood and stretched to the breaking point, ready to jump into action.

The creature advanced slowly in Hermione’s direction. It was strangely hunched, a limb sticking out at an odd angle, it was huge! She couldn’t make out its whole form which was obscured by the surrounding bushes. Just the torso towered over the dense vegetation. Then it moved behind a tree, and she couldn’t see it at all. The witch stretched her neck to catch another glimpse. She couldn’t see it! Where was it? Hermione’s heart beat rapidly, the sound of it drumming in her ears.

Suddenly, the creature was there again, much closer than it should be. Hermione let out a frightened shriek and bolted from her hiding place.

‘Run, run, run!’ her brain cried. Run she did!

The forest did everything it could to stop her. Vines clung to her arms and thorns tore her skin. Roots coiled under her feet and scrubs cut off her way. But she had to go. She had to run. It was there, right behind her! 

“Granger! Bloody hell. Stop already!”

The hell she would!

Then it reached her and grabbed her arms. She was shoved painfully against a tree, but Hermione would not give up. Harry would have heard her scream. He would come as quickly as he could. So she clawed at the creature and kicked and struggled as hard as she could. Only survival was on her mind.

Suddenly, her head was hurled to the side and her cheek burned. The beast shook her, holding her by her shoulders and shouting at her.

“It’s me! Fucking stop hitting me, Granger.”

She sucked in her breath and halted. In front of her was no beast. Well, no beast with a beastly body at least.

“Malfoy?”

“Who the fuck else would I be?”

“You- what. You hit me!” Hermione raised a hand to her still stinging cheek. She couldn’t believe it! He had really hit her. Her face burned, it had hurt like hell!

“Oh, what a shame! You nearly tore my eyes out, fucking bint,” Malfoy growled.

“What are you doing here? You scared the hell out of me,” Hermione was outraged and still gasped for air, feeling trapped against the tree by his body so close to hers. She pushed him away and he reluctantly stepped aside, not taking his eyes off her, ready to fend off another assault from her side.

“You asked for help, didn’t you?” he ground out, looking furious.

“I asked you to fetch Harry!”

“Well, getting your fucking saviour Potter is not my fucking job!” he started to rant. “You get bloody lost and I come outside and march into this blasted forest in the middle of the flipping night to save your sorry arse and you are just as bloody thankful as I expected!”

She reeled back at his language. “I just… I wasn’t expecting you,” she shot him an angry look.

“So you run away? Want to get even more lost?” he asked exasperated.

“I didn’t recognize you! You could have been some monster that wanted to eat me alive from the inside out and just leave my skin behind or something awful like that!”

He pulled a face, “Eww... you’ve got some vivid imagination there.”

“Well, you start to imagine your death at some point if you’re in the middle of a scary forest,” she defended herself with crossed arms.

“Except you aren’t,” he suddenly looked smug.

“What?”

“You aren’t in the middle, we’re quite close to the lake actually.”

“You’re kidding,” she suddenly felt really heavy and sagged back against the tree. Right by the lake! 

“Come on, I don’t want to stay here all night. It’s bloody cold,” he ushered her back to the castle. He was right. Just a minute into the right direction, and they reached the lake. Hermione felt like crying out of sheer frustration. 

“Wait,” she stopped Malfoy.

“What now?” he groaned.

“I lost my wand, remember? You have to- can you just, I don’t know, summon it?”

He quirked an eyebrow at her, but got out his wand and accioed hers.

Strangely, something started to tug at Hermione’s boot. Before she could contemplate it, her wand shot out of the shaft and into Malfoy’s hand. Her cheeks were pretty much glowing in the dark. Hermione quietly took it, turned around and practically ran from him in her disgrace.

“What a bloody nuisance,” she heard Malfoy swear behind her, but she didn’t stop until she had reached her bed, where she curled into a small ball, hoping to never to wake up again and face her shame.

_________

Why? Why had she asked him of all people for help? Hermione groaned and turned around in her bed, pulling the sheets above her head to hide from the world and the humiliation she felt. Crookshanks however, didn’t care for her sentiments and pawed her relentlessly, kneading his claws through her sheets into her until he found a comfortable spot to lie down. Hermione really didn’t want to get up, but she gently shoved her ginger cat off of her. Malfoy would mock her in front of anyone about how she had cried and got lost like a child and hadn’t used her wand like the stupid Muggle she was. It was pure agony anticipating the laughs she would receive from the Slytherins. She really hated herself right now.

Boy, was she angry! How dare Ron be so mean to her and leave her all alone so late at night. How dare he! Hermione threw off the blankets in a rapid angry motion and got up, fuelled by the rage inside her. They didn’t need her? Well, she didn’t need them! She never had friends when growing up before Hogwarts, so she’d get along on her own quite well. Who needs friends anyhow? When school was over, they probably wouldn’t stay friends for long anyway. Once everyone was settled into their new life with a fulltime job and family, nobody would have time for each other anymore. Hermione would come out on top, because she’d already come to terms with it. She was prepared. She wasn’t living on illusions of never ending friendship and fun. Brushing her wild hair angrily, Hermione pulled out more strands than usually but didn’t really care. She would show them, they couldn’t go anywhere without her!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter:
> 
> "I didn't know you loved being lonely so much!" Ron spat.
> 
> ::::::::::::
> 
> How do you like it? Was the Halloween episode scary?
> 
> Much love goes to the people that helped me with this chapter, especially KoolStoryBro13


	6. She's rejected

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Previously:
> 
> How dare Ron being so mean to her, leaving her all alone so late at night! They didn't need her? Well, she didn't need them! She would show them, they wouldn't go anywhere without her!

Hermione was annoyed. She had enough of her peers asking basic questions because they were simply too idle to look them up on their own. How handy for them that Hermione seemed to know everything! They weren’t willing to lift a finger for their homework. They came to her for convenience, not for knowledge. Not for explanation. Not even for her as a person! They came, because they were lazy. Because opening their textbooks was a task too bothersome and the way to the library was too far. They interrupted her blissful peace to ask the easiest things. 

“Hermione, what do you add to a Calming Draught to turn it into a Sleeping Potion?”

“Do you know when the Goblin War ended?”

“How do you differentiate between a Hippogriff and a Manticore?”

“Can you break down this Arithmancy formula for me?”

‘No! You can do it yourself!’ she wanted to shout at them. Sighing, the witch ran her hands over her face and tried to calm down. She braced her elbows on her office desk tiredly.

Just yesterday Ron had really had the gall to come to her for help. After what he had said to her on Halloween! After ignoring her through three whole meals in the Great Hall. He had just come up to her and Harry sitting at a table in the library. She had explained to her friend for the third time what happened if you added Fluxweed Oil to Calming Draught, before waiting for the water to boil, when the redhead had approached them.

“Hermione, can I borrow your notes on History?” Ron had asked her, interrupting her mid sentence. She bristled at his rudeness. He marched around like the world was only there to serve him!

“Didn’t you write your own?” she questioned him without looking up from Harry’s notes.

“You know I didn’t.” Accusation swung in his voice. He expected her to feel bad about Halloween night and help him out of guilt. Hell, he could shove that! 

“Well, then that’s your problem,” Hermione shrugged.

“Will you at least tell me which pages to read?” he asked exasperated, like she was the one acting like a petulant child! Harry looked between his friends uncomfortably.

“No Ron,” she looked up at the redhead. “I’m not helping you study. For that matter, I’m not helping any of you anymore,” she added annoyed and got up.

Harry looked at her, his face morphing into slight panic, which Hermione deliberately ignored. She really didn’t need to get a guilty conscience now. If she didn’t act now, she’d never show Ron just what she thought about his behaviour.

“So you’d rather learn on your own than help a friend from time to time? I didn’t know you loved being lonely so much!” Ron spat.

“For you information, I am not learning alone! I have a study partner who is capable of understanding the material himself and can even open a book on his own!”

He scoffed, “Yeah, of course you do. Who’d ever want to study with you? You couldn’t let anyone do something on their own anyhow, because you always need to know everything better. No one likes a know-it-all, you know?”

No, she didn’t know, because she had stopped listening to his childish rants. She never knew how desperately Ron needed her help to pass his classes. Judging from his anger he really was screwed without her. 

‘Well, he’s got to pull himself out of that mess on his own now,’ Hermione thought flippantly, as she shouldered her belongings and left the library.

Theodore Nott suddenly appeared from between one of the shelves. “Having a little lover’s quarrel, Granger?” he asked and followed her to the exit. 

Hermione ignored him, but was stopped in her tracks when Malfoy entered the library, when she was about to pull the doors open herself.

‘Can’t they leave me alone for one single day?’ She looked up at the blond Slytherin challengingly, waiting for the insult or mocking. He hadn’t so much as uttered a word about the forest incident, and she wished he would just get over with it, so she could finally forget her disgrace.

“Granger just broke up with her boyfriend, Draco. We should cheer her up, don’t you think?” Nott explained to his friend, standing behind Hermione.

“I don’t have time for this,” Hermione spat and shouldered past the blond git, blocking her way. 

After that episode, she didn’t meet with any of her friends to study anymore. Ron tried to corner her again to guilt her into helping Harry and him, but she refused. She refused to eat together with her fellow Gryffindors in the Great Hall as well, because she couldn’t stand the angry glances Ron shot her, when he was not outright ignoring her. Hermione even refused to watch their Quidditch match against Slytherin in the first week of November, the last one for Gryffindor that year. Even Malfoy seemed surprised about her, sitting on the couch in their common room, burrowed in a book about Ancient Magical Architecture, when he left for the match. He was dressed in his green and grey Quidditch gear with protectors on arms and legs and held his Nimbus in a firm grip.

“Won’t you come and cheer for your favourite seeker?” he asked her sceptically, leaning over the back of the couch to peek into her book.

“Harry will manage just as well without me on the crowded stands, where I would be just one of hundred students cheering for him to catch the snitch,” she remarked, covering the page he was attempting to read.

“Who said we’re talking about Potty here?” he grinned mischievously and leaned back again.

Hermione raised an eyebrow at his unusual playfulness. “Did you ingest a drop of Felix Felicis by chance?” she questioned him. “I think I’ve never seen you so cheerful and I have seen your face, when you bragged about poor Buckbeak getting beheaded because of you.”

“What if I did?” he smirked, and she got the feeling that he really might have had a sip of the valuable as well as highly illegal golden potion.

“Then I’ll hit you. That wiped the grin off your face once already. I bet it works just as well the second time.”

Malfoy glowered at that. It didn’t seem to be a memory he was as fond of as she was. Hermione smiled. Who would have thought Malfoy could manage to raise her mood today?

“Off with you, Head Boy!” she sent him on his way. “You don’t want to miss your match, do you? I’ll promise to cross my fingers for you to lose,” she added sweetly. 

“Why, thanks, Granger!” he sneered and left.

The Head Girl watched the Mirror Entrance shimmer, until it’s surface was smooth again.

‘That was strange,’ Hermione thought, as she scratched Crookshanks, who had jumped on her lap and pushed off her book in the process, behind his ears.

The Gryffindor Team won the match, judging Malfoy’s bad mood when he returned hours later and the gloominess he radiated the following days. Hermione decided it was safer to stay clear of him, otherwise he might get the idea that it was somehow her fault that Harry hat beaten him in catching the snitch.

Ron thought that she didn’t have anyone to study with beside him and Harry. But Hermione really didn’t care what he thought, because she already knew whom to ask to be her study partner from now on. He even shared her ambition and intellect.

They had agreed to meet at four in the afternoon in the library, so she went there half an hour early to prepare and get the books she needed.

“Wow, you’re early,” he greeted her fifteen minutes later.

“Hi Ernie,” the Gryffindor acknowledged her study partner and made space next to her for him to take a seat. He unpacked his books and three thick folders of notes.

“You are quite ambitious for a Hufflepuff,” she smiled, as she noticed his lengthy notes.

“Actually, I’m not very good with stress so I like to prepare in advance,” he shrugged his shoulders and flipped his Potions book to the chapter they were supposed to prepare.

“I’m thriving on stress really!” Hermione laughed, fiddling with her quill. Strangely, her cheeks heated when Ernie looked up at her.

“Yeah, I guess that’s why you became Head Girl,” he said.

“You think so?” Suddenly she became self-conscious, because she always assumed the reason for gaining her position was because of her exemplary marks.

“Well, looking at Malfoy, he’s not bad at school, but he is pro at managing stressful situations, isn’t he?” Ernie asked and pulled out a fresh parchment.

“Maybe…” she trailed off and then decided not to think into the matter further but turned back to her work instead.

Ernie Macmillan proved to be a good study partner. He didn’t ask questions you could answer with a quick look in a book and shared some noteworthy ideas about their tasks and topics.

They started meeting daily after lessons, sometimes until the library closed at seven. Madam Pince had to throw them out several times, critically jingling with her key ring, signalling that it was time for her to lock the doors.

When Ernie and Hermione had a streak with their runes translation and were nearing the closure of the library, Hermione invited the Hufflepuff to come to her common room to continue working on their homework for another hour or two and he agreed.

She felt a bit excited at having him over, because she usually didn’t have any visits except from her friends, and for the last weeks only Harry had been there from time to time. Even before her fight with Ron, the two of them usually preferred to meet somewhere else. They felt uneasy around Malfoy, and the jerk insisted on sitting in the common room until her friends left again. Afterwards the Slytherin often had something to do all of sudden and would leave as well.

Hermione also felt excited, because she actually got along with Ernie quite well. He didn’t deem her too studious or not sociable enough. He wasn’t a complete loner, as Hufflepuffs tended to hang out together frequently, but he was more drawn inward and quiet, listening and observing. She liked that about him.

To her chagrin Malfoy occupied the common room when they entered, sitting at the table in the middle and doing his own homework. Surprisingly, he moved to make way for them. The Slytherin shooed off Hermione’s cat from the couch and sat at the fireplace with his back turned towards them. Hermione would have preferred him to be completely absent, but that would have to do, she guessed.

After Ernie and Hermione had managed to finish their translation work within two hours, the Hufflepuff got up and started packing his stuff.

“Ernie, would you like to go to Hogsmeade sometime?” Hermione asked as casually as possible, leaning her elbows on table top to support her head with her hands and look up at him.

“Actually, I’m quite busy with schoolwork, and for the next scheduled weekend I’ll go out with my friends,” he answered, looking down at her.

“Oh,” she said. “Well, we can do something else as well. I’m not such a fan of Hogsmeade myself. I know all the shops inside out already,” Hermione smiled.

He halted his movements, before answering her, after he had screwed the lid on his inkpot. “Hermione, I like studying with you, but I really want to concentrate on that. My grades are very important to me and my parents, and I don’t want to be distracted,” he excused himself in a serious tone and slung the strap of his packed back over his shoulder.

“Alright,” she said quietly and followed him to the mirror subdued. “Well, good night then, Ernie.”

He turned around. “Tomorrow in the library again?” he asked, and she smiled and nodded.

Her smile faded slowly as he left. That wasn’t what she had expected. She felt disappointment at his rejection. Had it been a rejection per se? He had said he liked her. No, she corrected herself. He liked studying with her. He liked it because they were good at it, not because of her. He didn’t wish to hang out with her like friends did, or as anything else than friends for that matter.

She turned back towards the common room to find Malfoy having gotten up from the couch grinning maddeningly at her. Hermione could have sunken into the ground right there. She had totally forgotten about his presence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter:
> 
> "You broke the deal, Granger," he growled.
> 
> ::::::::::::
> 
> Poor Hermione :( How did you like the scene before the Quidditch Match? It's bordering on flirty, isn't it? :D
> 
> Thank you for those who already reviewed! Especially Sperma :)


	7. She's Stressed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Previously:
> 
> She turned back towards the common room to find Malfoy having gotten up from the couch grinning maddeningly at her. Hermione could have sunken into the ground right there.

“Poor Granger just got turned down!” he beamed.

“Shut it, stupid jerk,” she said angrily, quickly collecting her stuff from the table and picking up Crookshanks, before fleeing into her room. Tears threatened to spill, not from the rejection, but from shame of Malfoy mocking her yet again.

“Not so stupid to get lost on the edge of a forest and forgetting to use my wand.” He was clearly entertained. “Remember to stay in your room tomorrow!” Malfoy called after her, still laughing. “My friends will be here until midnight.”

_____________

The next day, she did meet with Ernie in the library again and she was relieved to slip back into their studying routine easily. However, Hermione was distracted in her search for a particular book when she spotted Harry and Ron sharing a table in the Potions section. She halted in her tracks on the way to the shelf she had intended to approach. Hermione quickly stepped behind the one next to her. Through the gap between book spines and the massive, dark wood of the shelf, she watched Harry pointing at a paragraph in the book that he and Ron had flipped open on the table between them.

Turning around abruptly, Hermione made her way back to the table she shared with Ernie before her friends could notice her.

“Didn’t find it?” Ernie asked, looking up as she plopped into the chair beside him.

Hermione turned to him confused, “Hm?”

“The book, Potions in the 19th Century. Did you find it?”

“Oh,” she quickly caught herself and mentally shook her head to get her thoughts in order once again. “No - I, uhm… it was already checked out of the library by someone else.” 

Hermione knew that it had been her decision to no longer learn with her friends, but somehow she still felt betrayed by their presence here without her. Harry and Ron had never before learned in the library without Hermione urging them to do their homework. Now all of sudden they did exactly that of their own accord.

“Well, I suppose we can work with what we already have, right?” Ernie remarked.

Hermione nodded absentmindedly. Unable to let this matter rest, she couldn’t manage to concentrate on her work or Ernie’s questions and observations. She was also dreading the evening, so she retired early to complete the remainder of the homework in the confines of her bedroom while the Slytherins occupied the common room. She regretted sacrificing her freedom for that stupid evening with Ron, but she concluded that Malfoy would have his friends over regardless. There wasn’t much she could do about that.  
_____________

Locked into her bedroom and surrounded by books, Hermione managed to finish her school work in no time and moved on to write a letter to Molly Weasley, asking if she could stay at the Burrow over Christmas. She knew that Malfoy wasn’t allowed to go home and there was no way that she would stay in the empty castle with him. Her heart did a painful little jerk when she thought about where she actually wanted to go for Christmas. Knowing that the Burrow was her only option to escape Hogwarts and therefore Malfoy, Hermione signed her name with a flourish and addressed the envelope. Later, when the common room would be empty again, she planned to take a night walk to send it. Her body craved her nightly stroll through the castle and it would feel good to walk up all the way to the Owlery and breathe some fresh air.

Having finished her tasks for the day, Hermione browsed through one of her favourite books lazily, but she couldn’t manage to summon enough motivation to actually read it. Instead, she looked for the passages she cherished most and skipped the more descriptive sections. This method of reading somehow dampened the impact of the more interesting lines. Hermione got quite frustrated when she didn’t feel her heart skip a beat at one of the more exciting passages, like it would have if she had read properly. After a while, she gave up and tried to sleep.

Hermione’s eyes nervously flicked to her watch on the bed stand for the fifth time. She had been lying in bed wide-awake for nearly an hour now, unable to even close her eyes. She looked at the watch again.

11:55

Malfoy had said that his friends would stay until midnight. Hermione mentally added ten minutes for the last of them to leave. Impatiently, she tossed and turned and just couldn’t stay put. She needed to move! She was desperate for a little walk through the castle to calm her nerves and to fall into a peaceful slumber after returning to her warm and comfortable bed. Hermione walked at night so frequently, that her body had become used to it by now.

The seconds ticked by slowly as Hermione stared at the ceiling. A soft chime informed her of the hands on her clock uniting to point at midnight. Hermione inhaled deeply, trying to divert herself by concentrating on slow intakes of breath and measured exhales.

0:05

Time to put on her cloak and donned some shoes. No need to catch a cold wandering around the castle and up to the draughty Owlery.

Slowly she made her way down the narrow staircase, running her hand along the rough stones of the inner wall while listening for any noises. Hermione didn’t hear any voices in the common room. Step by step, she descended the stairs.

They hadn’t left yet. Well, not all of them at least, she noted when she had made it all the way down to find Malfoy on the couch with a girl kissing his neck while straddling his lap.

Pulling a face, Hermione tried to be as quick and silent as possible to cross the room. Malfoy faced the fireplace and the girl was way too occupied to notice her, so Hermione couldn’t fathom how he sensed her presence, but when she had nearly reached the two-sided mirror, his voice halted her.

“You broke our deal, Granger.”

The girl - Hermione recognized her as the Ravenclaw Prefect Malfoy had been chatting with on Halloween - jumped startled and looked up at her in surprise.

“It’s past midnight,” Hermione answered through clenched teeth. Malfoy wasn’t facing her, so she could only make out his profile, illuminated by the dying fire, when he turned his head slightly. “And she,” Hermione emphasised, “should already be in her own dorm.” 

The girl pouted and looked down at Malfoy expectantly.

“Guess, she’ll just have to stay here,” he grinned. “Can’t have her get caught sneaking back, can we?”

The Ravenclaw beamed at him and leaned down to kiss Malfoy again. Hermione harrumphed and left the common room disgusted.

The castle was so very silent that night that she lost track of time after sending a small brown owl on its way to the Burrow. In the end, Hermione wandered around the dark corridors longer than she had planned. Luckily, she knew all the hiding spots and the teachers’ routes by now and didn’t need Harry’s map or invisibility cloak to be safe from discovery. Also, she was the Head Girl no less; she’d manage to talk herself out of this situation should she ever be caught this late at night.

Hermione didn’t want to acknowledge that she avoided returning too early, concerned about coming across the pair in her common room again. Her mind was occupied enough with those two at the moment. She tried to shake off the thoughts about what they were about to do.

He had let that trollop stay! Disgusting! Hermione just hoped that the girl left early enough to not come across her again. 

_____________

“Care to explain why you can’t stay in your room for one night?” Malfoy advanced on her office desk the next day, after Hermione’s consultations were over.

“You were the one who said they’d be gone by midnight,” she retorted, irritated.

“Well, plans change! You broke the deal! You owe me something now.”

“What? As if!”

“You owe me a deed,” Malfoy emphasised and put his hands on the table to lean in, threatening her with his close presence.

“Or what?” she challenged unperturbed.

“Or I’ll never take over any of your tasks ever again,” he growled.

“No way, what if I get ill?” Hermione huffed.

“That’s your problem then, isn’t it?”

“You told me they’d be gone by midnight. That was our deal - to inform me when you need the common room and when you don’t!” she defended.

“It wasn’t part of the deal. I agreed to it on your behalf, for your convenience,” he rectified.

“The great Draco Malfoy doing something so others have it easier, I doubt that!”

Malfoy leaned back. “Would be a shame if you’d have to take care of supervising little first graders on New Year’s Eve while your friends are going home for Christmas, wouldn’t it?” he drawled.

Hermione blanched. “I don’t have to stay at Hogwarts and I didn’t sign up for supervising the youngster’s party,” she said unconvinced.

“Too late,” he smirked. “I just finished the timetables and put your name in that time slot.”

“You git!” she growled. “You knew I wouldn’t agree with you on this matter!”

“Of course I did,” he informed her, looking at his nails disinterested.

Hermione fumed. Malfoy was a real prick when he had the upper hand. And he had it all too often to her chagrin.

Luckily for Hermione, she managed to convince Professor McGonagall the next day that her name had been filled in for the holidays as a mistake. She permitted Hermione to obligate one of the Prefects that had elected to stay in Hogwarts for the holidays anyway to fill in her place. Still, she knew that Malfoy could be relentless if he wanted to and from then on, she was constantly on edge, expecting him to strike against her at every opportunity. Hermione couldn’t bear the tension and even got the feeling that Malfoy was purposefully not acting on his threat to set her on edge even more. Letting the matter drop wasn’t like him at all.  
_____________

Near the end of the weekend, after Hermione had just finished her share of consultations for that Thursday, Malfoy appeared in their office as the last student was leaving. Hermione packed her bag and tried to ignore his presence as he stepped in front of her desk.

“I just wanted to let you know that my friends are staying over tonight so you better leave us alone this time,” Malfoy informed her. “Unless you want any problems.”

“Fine!” Hermione threw her hands in the air exasperated as he turned to leave. “I’ll do it. What do you want? Just let this go already!” she demanded, clearly frustrated by her inability to hold her own against Malfoy’s simple threats.

“You consent to fulfilling any request?” he asked, stopping on his way out of their office. 

“As long as it is reasonable.” Hermione congratulated herself for this clever addition. That would serve as an escape from her consent should he demand anything ridiculous.

Malfoy nodded. “Okay, I’ll think of something.”

Hermione groaned. “Can’t we get this over with now?” He really wanted to torment her with this. Now, Malfoy would use this against her constantly.

He grinned evilly. “I don’t want to waste my opportunity.” Malfoy turned and left, ignoring her scowl.

“Something reasonable!” Hermione called after him.

From that moment on, Malfoy seemed to have his friends over day in day out. Hermione had enough of the Slytherins’ comments on her every move - she didn’t want to lock herself away in her room all the time. Even Crookshanks was getting tired of her constant company and had chipped off to hunt small birds and not so small rats. He liked to place them on her pillows as a souvenir.

Hermione decided that she couldn’t hang out in the library her whole life either, so she made her way to the Gryffindor Common Room. It was an early evening and the last students still strolled the castle, but most had already decided to flee the cool corridors and had retreated to their warm common rooms.

When she entered the cosy atmosphere of the Gryffindor Tower, it encompassed her instantly, making Hermione feel at home again. She hadn’t realized how much she had missed the warm colours and fluffy sofas. Her new common room was elegant with its classy furniture, but returning to this comfortable chaos was what she really had needed in that moment. Hermione made her way through the groups of Gryffindors, some greeting her and welcoming her back into the lion’s den. Smiling and thanking them, she retreated into a quieter corner where she was greeted by Neville. He was in midst of a round of exploding snap with Dean Thomas and Colin Creevey. Next to them Seamus was involved in a game of wizard’s chess with Ron who looked up at her briefly, opening his mouth as if he wanted to say something before shutting it again and turning away from her. Hermione ignored the little stab she felt in her chest at his rejection.

“Wanna join in?” Colin asked her with his usual cheeriness. Hermione sat down with a huge smile, grateful for the distraction. Oh, how she had missed this! 

They were in their third round when a commotion erupted from the stairs leading to the dorms.

“Not now, Ginny!” Harry said impatiently while storming into the common room.

“You never make time for me anymore. You either are with Dumbledore or hanging around the library, but never do you have time for us! You are turning into bloody Hermione!” she yelled after him. By now the whole room had gone silent with everyone’s eyes glued on the pair.

“That’s because this isn’t only about you! It’s about my life, what I want to do with it. I won’t have any options to choose from, if I don’t improve my grades and that takes time! If you can’t understand how important that is for me then maybe you are not so important yourself!” Harry shouted. He froze briefly, staring into Ginny’s wide eyes, before raking his hands through his already tousled hair. He turned around abruptly, dodging Gryffindors left and right on his way to the exit. 

Falling out of her state of shock, Hermione looked at Ron reflexively. He had always been there for Harry when he had problems, understanding him better than Hermione knew the library. Ron, however, seemed torn between running after his best friend and being angry at the boy who had just broken up with his little sister. When he caught Hermione’s gaze he seemed to come to a decision and turned back to his chess game with Seamus, frowning at his tower dragging one of his opponent’s pawns off the board. Hermione huffed, letting her hand of cards drop on the table and followed after Harry.

“Harry!” She had to catch the Portrait of the Fat Lady that was already swinging shut behind the troubled young man. “Harry, wait for me. Please,” Hermione called after him, having a hard time keeping up with his pace. “What did you just do, Harry?!” she asked, when she finally fell into step beside him.

“I just broke up with Ginny, I guess.” Harry didn’t stop walking, so Hermione hurried to keep up with him. After taking a flight of stairs and several sharp turns, Harry headed for a hidden alcove a floor below their tower and plopped down on the windowsill, exhausted. Closing his eyes briefly, he leaned against the castle walls, letting his head drop against the cool glass.

“You shouldn’t just throw away what you have with Ginny,” Hermione said, shaking her head. 

He looked up at her exasperatedly.

“Let me help you. Please talk to me. I can help you to figure this out,” she begged.

“No, you can’t! You can’t always do everything right, Hermione. You don’t know how to fix this. You have no clue how relationships work!”

Hermione reeled back from his harsh words. “Why do you say that?” she asked hurt.

“Because it’s true,” he frowned, taking off his glasses and rubbing his eyes tiredly. “Look how you screwed up with Ron again and again.”

“But that wasn’t my fault!”

“Wasn’t it?” he asked calmly. Hermione couldn’t believe what he was saying. She shook her head fiercely when he didn’t add anything else, not even to defend his statement.

“Just… leave me alone for a bit, Hermione. I need to figure this out on my own,” he asked of her, but she already hurried to get away so he wouldn’t see her tears.

Harry’s words had stung. Ginny’s words had stung, but their breakup broke her heart. They were meant to be, weren’t they? They had been through so much. They couldn’t just let each other go because of some stupid school grades! When Hermione realized what she had just thought, she began to cry, frantically wiping tears the whole way down into the dungeons. Luckily for her, the students had returned to their respective houses due to the enforced curfew.

She looked for a safe haven in their common room, but of course he was there.

“Granger?”

Hermione tried to move through the room as quickly as possible, to avoid his gaze. She hated that he saw her cry.

To her horror, he stood at the bottom of the stairs and didn’t think about stepping aside for one second. He even moved to block the staircase, as she tried to move around him.

“Out of my way!” she yelled.

He frowned. “Why are you crying?”

“None of your fucking business!” she cried and pushed past him quite forcefully to run up the stairs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter:
> 
> "Don't think you are getting out of this easily," he growled at Hermione. "You're going to make this up to me. I'll make sure of that," he promised.
> 
> ::::::::::::
> 
> Hermione is reaching her lowest point now.
> 
> She starts to really miss her friends and she is becoming a bit lonely. Even Ernie turns her down :(
> 
> And Malfoy being Malfoy doesn't make her life easy as well. He and his girlfriend must be really annoying for Hermione :D What do you think?


	8. She's Down

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Previously:
> 
> He frowned. “Why are you crying?”
> 
> “None of your fucking business!” she cried and pushed past him quite forcefully to run up the stairs.

Hermione felt like she had failed her friends. It was devastating. Her friends were meant to be happy, to be successful in life, to reach their goals and fulfil their wishes. That’s what she wanted for them, that’s what made her happy and kept her going. Now she was useless. She couldn’t help them.

Unable to distract herself from her misery, Hermione pulled her sheets above her head. The sun had already risen high enough to illuminate her room with uncomfortable brightness. She could have gotten up to draw the curtains, but Hermione just couldn’t be bothered with that. Instead, she turned, rolling into a ball and staring into the stifling darkness under her blanket.

She desperately wanted to fall back asleep, craving the blissful nothingness it offered. Instead, she had been awake for hours now. She hadn’t bothered to look at her clock, but she had waited an eternity before the sky had slowly brightened up. All the while she was exhausted, emotionally and physically. Her body begged for rest but her mind just wasn’t able to shut down.

Hermione knew that she probably should get up to go down for breakfast, but despite her painfully empty stomach, she couldn’t muster the strength to leave her bed. She waited. She didn’t know for what exactly, she didn’t really care. 

Hermione was in a state of deep and depressing thoughts when Malfoy banged on her door. “Granger!” he demanded her presence. “Where are you?! Are you going to fucking leave me to deal with the Prefects’ meeting on my own?”

She ignored him. Didn’t he know she had other things to worry about? Well, she supposed he didn’t care whatever she was dealing with.

“Fucking useless Mudblood,” she heard him rant, when she didn’t respond. He could call her anything he wanted. Hermione didn’t care. She had other problems right now and she couldn’t deal with them. She was just so tired. Crookshanks head-butted her several times and meowed loudly but Hermione just pushed her Familiar away.

///

Later, when Hermione couldn’t stand looking at her bedroom walls any longer, she scooped up Crookshanks and trotted downstairs, confident that Malfoy was away, doing whatever he usually did on a Saturday afternoon. She settled down on the wide ledge of the large gothic window in their common room.

Holding her cat close to her chest, Hermione tried to counter the chill seeping into her bones from the stone sill she was sitting on. She stared into the murky lake. The sunrays were refracted artfully, as the window was right below the surface, but the muddy water made it look dull and dirty. Just like Hermione’s mind felt dull and dirty, muddled with self-doubt and desperation that were muted by an encompassing bleakness.

Early in the evening, Malfoy came back, but Hermione just cast a charm to mum all noises around herself windowsill and turned back to continue staring out into the lake. She didn’t however expect him to counter her spell, barging in her personal space like he did just moments later.

“Don’t you dare silence me again!” Malfoy growled.

Hermione just looked at him without reacting. Then, she slowly came back to her conscious self, emerging from the recess of her mind that her worries had pulled her into.

“Why are you back already?” she asked confused and put her ginger cat, which had been purring at her chest, down on the floor.

“Why I’m back already?” Malfoy ranted. “I demand that you do your Head tasks! You can’t expect me to take them over just because you are in some mood or whatever it is that drives you to lock yourself up in here!“

“I’m busy,” she told him off.

“Busy doing what? Petting your beast of a cat? It’s Saturday! There are no classes, there is no homework, there is only our meeting that you were supposed to prepare!” he threw his hands into the air exasperated.

“What meeting?” Hermione frowned. “The meeting!” She jumped from her place on the windowsill and ran over to their sofas were she had carelessly dropped her notes and bag the day before. Crookshanks hissed, startled by her sudden movement and bolted from the room.

Malfoy looked at her strangely. “What now? Hurry up! We’ll be late, Malfoy!” she told him sternly.

“The meeting is over, Granger,” he told her. Staring at the Slytherin, Hermione tried to process what he had just said. “Are you going insane now?” Malfoy actually seemed to be a bit frightened which made her laugh. “Crazy lunatic,” he shook his head and took a step back when she walked towards the table where he was standing. “You stay away from me, Mudblood!” he told her and kept her at arms length.

Hermione stopped and looked at him. “Don’t be silly, Malfoy. Bring me up to date, will you? Let’s sit down and tell me what you discussed in today’s meeting. I can’t afford to miss anything.” She pushed past him pulled out a chair with Malfoy reluctantly following her example, standing awkwardly opposite to her, the table between them.

“Don’t think you are getting out of this easily,” he growled at Hermione. “You’re going to make this up to me. I’ll make sure of that.”

“Whatever,” she said, spreading her notes for the Prefects’ meeting on their table.

Malfoy didn’t sit down like she did. He kept standing, still keeping a safe distance as if Hermione was contagious.

“Well, what did you discuss in the meeting?” she asked impatiently.

He shrugged, “Just filled them in on their rounds. We postponed the rest to tomorrow after breakfast, actually.”

She narrowed her eyes. “So you didn’t hold a real meeting at all? What are you complaining about then?”

“Maybe I’m complaining because I didn’t have a clue what we were supposed to discuss as you had all our notes for the meeting? Maybe I'm complaining because I had to listen to whiny little Prefects bitch about working on Sunday! For the record, I would have preferred to spend tomorrow without chores, as well!!" he ranted.

“Okay, okay! Calm down, will you? I apologise. I should have been there,” she granted him with a frown. No need to shout at her like he did right now.

“Indeed. You should have,” he affirmed, still sore.

“So, tomorrow it is?” Hermione enquired.

“At eleven.”

“I’ll be there,” she promised and crept away, back to her room.

Hermione panicked a little, when she had closed the door behind her and leaned against it. What was wrong with her?! How could she have let herself go like that for a whole day? That had been so unlike her. Hermione had pretended to be calm and collected in front of Malfoy, but inside she was greatly confused and shaken. She had totally drawn in on herself and had locked out the world around her completely. She really needed to solve this problem, or she might return to this state, which really frightened her, now that she was shaken out of it. Hermione didn’t want to admit it to herself, but she was a bit thankful for Malfoy’s intruding persona. She didn’t believe light probing would have gotten her to come out of her little depressive and self-destructive episode.

///

The next day, Hermione was back to her usual self. At least, she worked as much as possible to not allow her brain the break to shut down again. Getting up as early as six, she rewrote her Herbology essay just to put more effort in a neat and organized script and layout. Afterwards, she had a brief breakfast. She met neither Ron nor Harry, who both usually slept in as long as possible, but Hermione knew that she would see Ron later at the Prefects meeting. She definitely wasn’t looking forward to that.

Hermione quickly shoved toast and scrambled eggs down her throat, washing it down with still scalding hot tea. Ginny sat across from her with red, puffy eyes, but Hermione ignored her resolutely for the sake of her own mental stability. Instead, Hermione picked up the newspaper to shield herself from the sight of the depressed girl and briefly skimmed the Daily Prophet’s main issue depicting a portrait of Lucius Malfoy.

Death Eater on the run – sightings near the Nott Estate, it read.

Hermione shook her head. They still hadn’t managed to capture that foul man. Even Sirius had been hunted by more forces. After eating in record time, Hermione made her way back to her room to prepare for the meeting by organizing her notes and planning the order in which the different topics were to be discussed. Then, she impatiently waited for the clock to turn to eleven, but she still had two hours left. She cleaned up her own room as well as the bathroom and afterwards their common room. No way she would leave all the work to the house-elves, those poor creatures were working hard enough even without her adding to their chores. Malfoy looked uneasily at Hermione’s frantic shuffling around but didn’t comment on it and hid behind his issue of the Daily Prophet instead. Hermione briefly wondered what he knew about his father’s whereabouts. 

When it was finally time for the meeting, she made her way to the Head Students’ office where they were coming together with Malfoy in tow. Hermione greeted the Prefects and apologised for missing the initially scheduled meeting. She managed the affair professionally by laying out the upcoming tasks and events and leading the discussions to a satisfying agreement about how rounds had to be redistributed to accommodate everyone’s needs and after school activities. She left the organization of the next Quidditch matches to Malfoy who was in charge of that topic being an active member of the Slytherin team himself. Ron didn’t even look in her direction the whole meeting, she noticed with a lump in her throat.

After the meeting, Hermione tried to catch up with Ron, but she was held back by one of the younger Slytherin Prefects and therefore had no chance to follow him. 

“How can I help you?” she asked the young Slytherin girl fidgeting before her, instead of chasing after her friend. Usually, the Slytherins preferred to sort out their affairs with Malfoy, but he was still preparing the timetables for Quidditch training. They didn’t trust Hermione as a Gryffindor and some, she suspected, didn’t trust her as a Muggleborn. This didn’t seem to hold back the Slytherin student approaching her now however.

“I shouldn’t really be here…” the dark-haired girl in front of Hermione trailed off.

“It’s Sadie Baldock, right?” Hermione asked and the girl nodded. “Let’s sit down, Sadie, shall we?“

Hermione waited for Sadie to get comfortable in the wooden chair while she herself took a seat in her own old-fashioned upholstered office chair behind the desk. “So, why don’t you just tell me what’s on your mind, and I judge whether you should be here or not?” Hermione smiled at the young Prefect encouragingly.

The Slytherin stared at her hands before she rushed out, “I’ve found my friends out after curfew and didn’t tell on them.”

Hermione knit her eyebrows together and threw a glance over at Malfoy still scribbling having proceeded to copy his notes on the meeting in a neat script.

She turned back to Sadie. “Did you scold them for their behaviour?“

“Well, yes. Kind of... They think they can bend the rules because I would never punish them or rat them out.” The girl turned bright red. “I’m not a very good Prefect, am I?” she asked crestfallen, not looking at Hermione anymore but at the rutted plate of the desk between the two of them.

“No, you are a good friend. If your friends know to value that, they will respect your position and the responsibilities that come with it,” Hermione replied honestly.

Sadie looked up at her with big eyes, “So you think I did nothing wrong?“

“You abused your position to grant your friends liberties. I don’t know how much more wrong you can get,” Hermione told the girl who turned pale at her words. “But rules are not above everything, and sometimes they do more harm than a little wrongdoing would, Sadie,” Hermione added, smiling reassuringly.

The girl nodded and beamed at her.

“But that doesn’t mean that I will tolerate this, you hear? If I ever catch you and your friends in the deed, I will not hesitate to give you detention until next year and your Prefects Badge will be passed onto someone else,” Hermione carried on sternly.

The girl nodded again.

“Don’t feel afraid to tell them that, Sadie. No one demands that you go behind your friends’ backs, but no one will stand up for you like you do for them either. You should come out straight and tell them that the next time you catch them, they will have to deal with the consequences, no matter how good friends you are. Because in that moment you are both - their friend and their Prefect. You are there to enforce the rules, and you are there to care for their safety.”

The girl looked chastised now, and Hermione felt a bit bad about her strict words.

“I once hid in one of the girls restrooms instead of standing up to my friends head on, you wanna know what happened?” she asked the younger Slytherin in front of her.

The girl nodded curiously.

“I was attacked by a troll, actually,” Hermione grinned at Sadie’s widening eyes. “Don’t worry, I was saved in time by my friends. They were nearly thrown out of school for not obeying the Headmaster’s instruction to go to their common room for safety. I lied on their behalf then. That’s when I realized that it is not all about rules and stuff.”

The girl seemed impressed and thanked Hermione before she bid her goodbye with the promise to give her friends a piece of her mind.

Hermione slouched at her desk and put her head on her arms. This was exhausting. Helping Sadie had lifted her spirits, but after she had left, Hermione felt drained and all her own problems came crashing back. Hermione was desperate to help Harry get back with Ginny and Ron’s absence next to her at the Gryffindor table made all food taste hollow and stale.

Hermione felt his eyes on her and tiredly looked up. “What?” she asked.

“Nothing,” Malfoy shook his head, having finished the timetables. “You look like a troll dragged you into his cave and locked you there for weeks. That’s saying something with your hair. Have you heard of that thing called sunlight?”

“Why thanks, Malfoy. You must be the expert, being as pale as a vampire yourself.”

He huffed but followed her out of their office to return to their common room.

Hermione didn’t pay him any attention as he followed her through the halls. She thought about how Ron had completely ignored Harry’s distress after fighting with Ginny. How could Ron leave his best friend alone in a situation like that? Even if this was about his sister, shouldn’t he be the first one to talk Harry into apologizing and being happy again?

Ron really needed a good dressing-down. If she caught him stepping a toe out of line she would give him detention until the end of the year, Hermione decided. That would teach Ron not to mess with her and to be a better friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter:
> 
> "You can never know your enemy well enough," he replied haughtily in a way so much himself that she had to smile. Somehow, it was endearing that he built this character of the malicious antagonist around himself to keep everyone at bay. 
> 
> ///
> 
> Poor Hermione, things will look up soon and the focus will shift to Draco more in the next few chapters, I promise :) 
> 
> What did you think of her helping Sadie? She finally manages to thrive in her Role as Head Girl and is able to support the students like she wants to. But her own problems are weighing down heavily.
> 
> Malfoy is even a little charming in this chapter in his own way, isn't he? :)


	9. She's Honest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Previously:
> 
> Ron really needed a good dressing-down. If she caught him stepping a toe out of line she would give him detention until the end of the year, Hermione decided. That would teach Ron not to mess with her and to be a better friend.

Reaching the stairs to the dungeons with Malfoy, Hermione spotted Luna talking to Neville. The blonde Ravenclaw noticed her as well and gave a little wave. Promising to help Neville’s search for Sea Lavender later, Luna quickly excused herself from him, sending him ahead to the lake.

“Hermione,” Luna greeted her in her silvery voice. Her dreamy smile turned into a little frown and she tilted her head to one side. “Your hair is full of angry spirits. You should try to avoid feelings of strong hate and resentment. They aren’t good for a heart beating in the tact of jumping Wizzfleas.”

Hermione only nodded, having given up on lecturing Luna about the nonexistence of her imaginary creatures a while ago. The Ravenclaw smiled at her in her usual ruminative manner and Hermione had to swallow hard. Sometimes, she suspected that Luna knew exactly what went through her head and the girl didn’t hold back to voice what she observed. Her open nature made Hermione uneasy and even though she knew that Luna never meant harm, she still managed to make Hermione feel uncomfortable in her own body.

“Draco,” Luna acknowledged Malfoy who had stopped to watch the encounter between Luna and Hermione with silent curiosity. Pondering on her strange words, Hermione watched as she skipped past her through the halls.

Why had she told her to avoid hate? Hermione never hated anyone. Hate meant that you wished harm for someone. That wasn’t what she wanted at all; no one deserved to suffer, no matter how evil they were. But suddenly, Hermione felt like she had swallowed a stone, her stomach becoming heavy and ice cold. She reminded herself that just a moment ago she had wished harm on her best friend. Ron had been awful to her, but how could she even think about retaliation? Hermione felt terrible. What kind of friend was she to carry such hate for the people closest to her? She truly didn’t deserve them, if she harboured that much resentment.

“Well, that was strange,” Malfoy remarked beside her. Hermione shook her head frowning and continued on her way with him in tow.

When she mulled over Luna’s strange advice in her head, Hermione felt Malfoy’s eyes on her. “Still wracking your brain over Potty’s little breakup?” he asked. “Don’t you dare doing that scary thing again, where you lock yourself in your room and skive off of all your duties. I dislike that Granger. Even more than the usual one,” Malfoy sneered.

For the sake of her own stability of mind, Hermione ignored what he was hinting at. “Since when do you care for Harry’s private life?” she asked instead, rubbing at her tired eyes.

“I don’t,” he replied. “It’s just fun seeing him all desperate about it.”

“How very nice of you,” she commented drily.

“No need for you to get all worked up over those lovebirds,” Malfoy told her. “Don’t you have your own boyfriend to worry about?” he raised an eyebrow at her.

“Ron’s not…” she shrugged and groaned. “I worry about him too.”

“Very talkative, today, aren’t we?” he remarked snidely about her unusual sincerity with him.

Hermione huffed, “You asked.”

“Yeah, but usually you ignore those kind of questions that are obviously meant to pry into your most troubling thoughts.”

“Since when are you interested in my troubles?” she laughed hollowly.

“You can never know your enemy well enough,” he replied haughtily in a way so much himself that she had to smile. Somehow, it was endearing that he built this character of the malicious antagonist around himself to keep everyone at bay. Malfoy eyed her facial expression uneasily, clearly having expected a harsh answer about staying out of her private affairs. He seemed pretty worried that Hermione might turn into a murderous lunatic, lately.

He shook his head at her strange conduct. “Maybe you shouldn’t be trying to fix their relationship problems. It’s not really your forte, isn’t it?”

“You don’t know a thing about my strengths!” Hermione hissed.

He shrugged, “I mean, maybe do what you’re good at and start doing his homework again. He’ll at least have time for his girlfriend then.”

“I’m definitely not doing Harry’s schoolwork for him! He’s capable of that on his own,” she huffed.

They were silent for a while, walking alongside down a flight of stairs into the dungeons.

“I’ve got a better idea!” She excitedly stopped mid way.

“Well, that problem was solved quickly. Happy to help,” he acknowledged sarcastically.

“Actually you had a great idea,” Hermione retorted and turned to the opposite direction without further explanation.

______________________________________________________________

As Hermione had expected - judging his newly found ambition to score higher grades - she found Harry in the library. She suspected she knew what had spurned his worries of not fulfilling the needed average grade. Snape had once again been especially daunting with the marks for their last submission and Harry hadn’t gotten off well. His inability to get the marks he needed in Potions was threatening his future aspects of becoming an Auror.

Not wanting to disturb Harry’s studies, she sat beside him silently to work on her own subjects. He looked up briefly but, his eyes unfocused and with dark circles beneath. He seemed absent, as if he didn’t really notice her presence. He turned back to his notes, and they worked like that side by side for a few hours.

“I’m taking a break,” Harry told her at some point, and she agreed to pay him company. Together they retreated into an empty classroom, where Harry rubbed at his eyes tiredly.

“I guess you want to talk to me?” he asked, surprising Hermione with his accurate guess. She nodded and moved to lean against the teacher’s desk in front of the empty rows.

“Listen, Harry,” Hermione searched for words, looking down at her folded hands. “I… I think we as friends fell into some kind of routine that was easy but that wasn’t comfortable.”

Once she had started talking, Hermione felt the words rushing from her mouth, unable to stop them and unable to really comprehend what she was saying.

“We thought that everyone was fine with their place in it, but we clearly aren’t. We… we weren’t able to tell each other, so we kept each other at arms length. That’s what I did at least,” she shook her head shamefully.

“And I hurt Ron. I hurt you. I didn’t want that. I just didn’t want to trouble you with my doubts and problems. You always ask me for advice, turn to me with your problems and I was afraid to do the same, and that is not right. We are friends, aren’t we?” she looked up at Harry. “We are supposed to depend on each other and trust each other, and I only ever wanted you to depend on me, because I was afraid of losing you. I – I didn’t want to let you down like last year. And now you have problems that I can’t help you with and I feel so useless…”

Harry listened to her, let her finish and hugged her when her soul was bared before him. “It’s alright, Hermione, you know? It’s not always your problem to deal with. We have to learn to fend for ourselves, don’t we?” he squeezed her shoulders, giving her a lopsided smile and she laughed through her tears. 

“I… I just feel so useless and like I don’t deserve you because I can’t help you,” she croaked out.

“Blimey, you sure are crying a lot lately, aren’t you?” Harry asked worried.

“I guess so,” Hermione admitted. “I think, I’m quite stressed with schoolwork and stuff,”

Harry looked at her unbelieving, “Who are you? What did you do to Hermione?”

They shared a laugh and just like that it felt easy again. To be friends. It wasn’t just some obligation Hermione dreaded. It was fun and sometimes it hurt. But it felt right all in all.

“I figured out how to help you, Harry,” she told him with an encouraging smile.  
___________________________________________________________________________________

The next day, Hermione cancelled her learning session in the library with Ernie and met with Harry instead. She demanded his notes on every subject to review them. It was a mess, she realized and she now understood how he got into so much stress lately. Together, they worked out a plan for him to bring order into his revising schedule, and he seemed quite relieved, when she told him that his notes – though not very orderly – were actually quite detailed and didn’t miss anything gravely important.

Helping Harry with his studies actually wasn’t so bad for Hermione either as she could revise by explaining what she had already learned with Ernie to Harry again. She noticed that by working with him instead of for him, Harry was way more open with subject material he didn’t get at first and carefully listened to her explanations.

Afterwards, he asked her if he should have another talk with Ron again in her place, but Hermione shook her head, thanking him. This was something she had to do on her own. She messed this up, and now she’d have to fix it herself.  
______________________________________________________________________________

After a brief Prefects meeting on Thursday, where Hermione had handed out the timetables for the coming weeks rounds, Ron actually came to her himself. He stayed behind while the others left, waiting for the last Prefect to exit the Head’s Office, standing by the door and shuffling his feet. Finally, they were alone and Ron opened his mouth unsure of how to address her.

Hermione stopped him holding up her hand. “I have to apologise, Ron,” she told him. “Please just listen.”

She took a deep breath. “I wasn’t fair, I realise that now. I… I didn’t know how to approach you anymore. I didn’t know how to – how to deal with this,” she made a gesture between the two of them.

“I’ve had a crush on you for so long, and then I didn’t, and I didn’t know how to proceed from there. I was afraid you might return those feelings I no longer had. I felt bad about it. I felt like I was betraying you, like I let you down,” she shook her head looking down.

“That’s why I pushed you away, hoping you could no longer want any more than what we had if I did. It felt bad, but it - it was easy because I didn’t have to talk about what I felt. I - I was so afraid of losing you that I rather ruined our friendship than hurting you by not being in love with you anymore,” she covered her face with her hands.

“I never really asked, did I?” Ron responded quietly, looking at his own hands. “I knew you liked me. I knew for a while. But I was afraid that, if we spoke it out loud, I wouldn’t be able to ignore it anymore and would feel bad about not returning the feeling. I guess I’m no better than you were…”

“Oh, Ron,” Hermione shook her head smiling sadly. “How could we ever be this stupid?“

“You are the smart one!” he defended himself. “I am allowed to be a dunderhead from time to time. What is your excuse?“

Hermione hit him playfully, a wide grin on her face, before she hugged him tightly.

____________________________________________

 

At the dinner table the trio was united once again and Hermione felt content for the first time since what had to be forever. She knew that there were still things to be set straight, but they could wait, she decided. Hermione gazed down the table to where Ginny sat with her friends of the year below. She didn’t look at Harry once, which made Hermione incredibly sad. But who knew? Maybe this would sort out itself with time. She’d like that.

She looked back at Harry, sitting opposite to her, and noticed that his gaze had strayed to Ginny as well. There was a Hogsmeade visit upcoming soon. Hermione knew that the both of them would have gone together under normal circumstances and would have cherished their time as boyfriend and girlfriend. It really wasn’t fair, she thought.  
______________________________________________

The next day, Hermione hoped that the Quidditch match in the afternoon would cheer Harry up so she had promised to join her friends to watch it. They trotted down towards the field, following the mob of students on their way to watch the game. It was windy, but the weather stayed dry against all expectations.

“Not taking your girlfriend to the match, Potter?” Malfoy sneered when they passed him at the bottom of the stands. Hermione shot him a glare to shut him up. When she spotted the tiny girl standing next to Malfoy, clinging to his arm and pursing her pouty mouth that was shining bright red with lipstick, Hermione raised a brow.

She swallowed a comment about how fast Malfoy swapped his girlfriends and for one much too young this time in her opinion. Instead, Hermione urged her friends to not ignore him and simply walk on.

The Ravenclaw Quidditch team did well in the last game of the year against the Hufflepuffs, but Hermione – having never been very interested in the dangerous sport – couldn’t bring herself to see the entire match. The tension between Harry and Ginny, sitting close in the crammed stands, was weighing down on her, and so she decided to leave the game after the first half was over with a tight draw between the two teams.

Returning to her dorm, she ran herself a bath and relaxed for the first time in what felt like years. Hermione felt old. As if the last weeks had completely sucked the life out of her. Her friends were at her side again, but everything felt harder and gloomier somehow. There was an encompassing dread. It had been quiet in the wizarding world lately. Too quiet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter:
> 
> The Headmaster was looking at Harry and Ron who were seated in front of his desk, their heads hanging low and looking as guilty as they should be.
> 
> ::::::::::::
> 
> Finally Hermione has her friends back, but not everything seems to be alright...  
> What did you think about Hermione's confessions?  
> Did you like Malfoy in this chapter? He was almost nice :D


	10. He's Unfair

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Previously:
> 
> Her friends were at her side again, but everything felt harder and gloomier somehow. There was an encompassing dread. It had been quiet in the wizarding world lately. Too quiet.

How the hell could they have come up with such a stupid idea?! Yes, Harry was head over heels in love with Ginny and yes, he was desperate to get her back, but this! This was too much. Hermione had the urge to hit both of them over the head repeatedly, but she had to pull herself together and remain calm until this charade was over.

They were all assembled in the Headmaster’s office with Dumbledore himself sitting at his desk, deep, sorrowful creases wrinkling his old face. A brief image of herself sitting in the same positions with similar creases and grey hair flashed before her eyes and Hermione surmised that she might well end up looking like that in the not so soon future if Harry and Ron continued with their reckless ventures.

The Headmaster was looking at Harry and Ron, who were seated in front of his desk, their heads hanging low and looking as guilty as they should be. Next to them stood none other than the Minister of Magic himself as well as two Aurors who had brought the two of them back to Hogwarts after saving their sorry arses.

Professor McGonagall was present as well as was Malfoy in his position as Head Boy. He was leaning against the door, watching the whole affair intrigued.

“That was the most reckless thing I’ve ever encountered!” Minister Fudge ranted. It was already the third time he had said that, Hermione counted silently.

Professor Dumbledore nodded gravely, addressing Harry and Ron, “Can you tell me what was on your mind when you decided to do something so dangerous?”

They wrung their hands, and Hermione would have felt sorry for them if she hadn’t been so outraged by their insolence.

“We wanted to buy a broom,” Harry answered meekly.

“A broom!” Fudge threw his hands into the air.

Professor Dumbledore didn’t let off. “Why did you need a new broom, Harry?” he inquired.

“Not for me… It was supposed to be a Christmas present. I- I wanted to apologise to Ginny with it,” he looked at his hands sadly. “I didn’t think about how dangerous it was to go to London alone.”

“You didn’t think about it?! You were nearly killed! Or worse, taken hostage! If there hadn’t been our Aurors around – by pure chance I might add – the Death Eaters would have had an easy job of it!” the Minister cried outraged and Harry ducked his head even lower.

“Do you realize what this day could have meant for the war, Harry?” Professor Dumbledore asked him sternly.

Harry shook his head “I didn’t… didn’t think about it at all.”

“This ignorance needs to be punished severely, Dumbledore!” Fudge demanded. Hermione really wished the hysteric man would shut up already.

“It was all my fault!” Ron suddenly interrupted, looking at the Headmaster bravely. “I told him if he doesn’t make up with my sister, I would hex his balls off just before dumping him in the lake for the Squid to have for dinner! I couldn’t see her cry any longer so I told him to get her something special for Christmas and bloody apologise to her!”

Professor Dumbledore nodded gravely, looking at Ron now. “Yes, this behaviour cannot go unpunished, I’m afraid,” he looked up at the Minister and his Aurors. “Thank you for bringing our students back in one piece. We will take over from here.”

Minister Fudge nodded. “Yes, yes. If there is ever any problem, feel free to contact me directly, Dumbledore.”

“Your assistance in this matter was of great help, thank you Minister.” The Headmaster stood to shake his hand. “I wish you a merry Christmas time and hope you will be able to buy presents for your beloved ones safely.”

“Merry Christmas!” Fudge raised his hat and left with his Aurors in tow.

When the door had closed behind them, the Headmaster addressed Professor McGonagall, “Minerva, will you take care of this? I need to find out how it was possible for Tom to wrangle his men into Diagon Alley.”

“Of course, Albus,” she answered, ushering the students outside and leading them to her office.

She didn’t add anything to the scolding the boys had already received, but shook her head at them, disappointed. “Mr Potter you will serve detention with Mr Filch for your lack of judgement of the graveness of the situation! As Mr Weasley has claimed main responsibility for your actions however, he won’t get away so easily. But the choice of your punishment is for the Head Students to make as you are a Prefect and therefore fall under their responsibility.” She turned towards Hermione and Malfoy.

Hermione nodded, already coming up with an adequate punishment.

“Miss Granger, as much as I value your opinion, due to your friendship to Mr Weasley you are clearly too involved in this matter to judge fairly. Therefore, I leave the decision to Mr Malfoy,” Professor McGonagall told her with an apologizing look.

Hermione was speechless. She couldn’t believe that Professor McGonagall didn’t trust her to decide for a punishment unbiased. Malfoy would be relentless. He would do his worst, she was sure of it. Judging from his gleeful expression, he thought the exact same. “It needs to be a punishment that really teaches Weasley a lesson, right?”

“I’ll leave that to you Mr Malfoy,” Professor McGonagall answered.

“Alright,” he nodded and turned towards Ron who opted to look over the other boys shoulder rather than meet his gaze. “Weasley, you are no longer allowed to play Quidditch and your broom will be locked away until the end of the school year.”

Hermione could see Ron’s hands balling into fists, but he only nodded tensely.

“Professor-!” Hermione spoke up, but was interrupted by Professor McGonagall raising her hand.

“This was decided upon, Miss Granger.”

Hermione wanted to object, but stopped herself, when she saw the sombre look behind the strict facade of the woman. Professor McGonagall was as unhappy about this decision as her, she realised. There was no way out of this punishment. Professor McGonagall then sent them on their way back to their dormitories, seeming in need of something strong to calm her nerves after all this racket.

Hermione walked beside Malfoy back to their common room, fuming the whole way. She ground her teeth to not scream at him right then and there in the middle of the corridors. But as soon as both of them strode through the mirror entrance, she no longer held back.

“You arsehole!” she cried and took hold of the closest object to her right to hurl it at him. “You could have given him detention and be done with it! You clearly took advantage of the situation so that your team had a chance at winning!”

Malfoy dodged the book she had thrown gracefully like the trained Seeker he was and glared at her. “I taught that dimwit a lesson, nothing more,” he told her haughtily.

“As if!” she yelled. “Admit it: You just wanted to shaft me! You make everything about yourself! You were supposed to decide on a punishment from an outsider position but you make this your little petty revenge stuff! You aren’t just a minor Prefect anymore, Malfoy! You’ve got responsibility and you have to be fair! You have to do your job!”

“Well,” he advanced on her until he was uncomfortably close. “If I’m so bad at it, why did McGonagall leave it to me to decide what to do? You better shut your filthy Mudblood mouth. You are not even worthy enough to criticise me at all,” he hissed and she took a step backwards at his open hostility.

“You- Don’t call me that!” she poked her finger at his face. He grabbed it hard and pushed her back. Hermione tried to evade him but that only made her finger joints pop audibly and hurt like hell.

“It’s time you learned your place, little girl,” he growled and she felt a shiver crawl up her back and scrape at her neck with icy fingers. Hermione didn’t want to back up and she wasn’t able to either as her back now hit the wall. So she just stared at him unrelenting. Malfoy was breathing hard, staring right back until he very slowly let go of her. It didn’t feel like a victory though, because she now had to lean heavier against the wall to support her weak knees. Struggling to appear unperturbed, she slowly pushed off and strode past him up to her room.

__________________________________________________________________________________________

The next morning, a ruffled looking owl did a crash landing into Ron’s cereal. Patting at the milk splatters on her robe, Hermione pulled out the soaked letter from underneath the screeching bird. When it was freed from its delivery, Errol ruffled his feathers and then decided to fall asleep without leaving his self-proclaimed bathtub. Maybe the milk would work it’s rejuvenating magic and make him more unerring next time. Ron accepted the letter Hermione had dried magically before handing it to him. He stared at the alarmingly red envelope, looking up at Harry with a painful expression.

“Weasley has gotten himself a Howler!” someone cried excited. Everyone at the Gryffindor table went silent, turning towards Ron expectantly. The rest of the Great Hall was still bustling, but gradually their schoolmates noticed the Gryffindors’ unusual quietness and craned their heads, curiosity swapping over the rows of students in waves. 

“Open it, before it’s too late,” Hermione advised. “You knew you’d get one, better get over with it quickly.”

Ron swallowed and nodded, throwing a last glance at Harry who was unusually interested in his bacon and scrambled eggs.

Breaking the seal, Ron opened the latch. When the daunting thing started unfolding of its own accord, he immediately let it drop with a little squeal. The whole Hall seemed to collectively take a breath in anticipation. 

“Ron, Harry,“ a deep and tired voice echoed unnaturally loud from the small letter. “I just came back from a meeting with Kingsley concerning the events in Diagon Alley.”

Ron stared at the letter hanging in the air in front of him, trembling slightly as the voice of his father droned with deafening volume, seeping with disappointment. Harry had looked up from his breakfast with wide eyes. Clearly, he had prepared himself for Mrs Weasley scolding them mercilessly. The calm and disheartened voice of Mr Weasley was proving to be way more cruel.

“Your mother was too upset to write you, she is still resting from the distress you have caused her,” Mr Weasley continued, his voice vibrating through the Hall so loudly that the candles above their heads started flickering. “I hope you are aware of the dangers you two put not only yourselves in, but many more people as well. We are still investigating the attack and I don’t quite know if I should be relieved that they didn’t attack because of your presence, or if it is instead more alarming that they are willing to risk being caught to cause so much destruction and harm.”

At this point most students were already covering their ears to muffle the bone-quaking noise. “I’m not even trying to understand your line of thought that justified your actions. I simply cannot fathom how you came up with this idea and how Hermione could let you go through with it.”

Hermione’s ears heated. She hadn’t known! How was she supposed to stop her friends from killing themselves if they didn’t think of divulging her in their plans anymore?!

“I expect you to be on your best behaviour for the remainder of the school year. Otherwise I fear you will dig Molly, as well as yourselves, an early grave,” Mr Weasley finished and the letter fell to the table, again lifeless and seemingly innocent, offering no hint of the crushing words it contained.

The students sighted with relief, when the letter finally fell silent. Everyone turned to the two culprits and slowly started whispering to each other. Within a few heartbeats, the noise level surpassed the usual bustling and the wildest guesses about last night’s events were thrown into the rumour mill. Briefly, Hermione toyed with the idea of making Ron promise to rectify his father’s notions of Hermione having stood for her friends’ actions. But when she saw the devastation on his face, she patted his arm instead.

“How about a little visit to Hagrid later?” she suggested, trying to distract Ron from his agony over the Howler.

Harry nodded approving, seemingly happy for the distraction. “That’s a great idea,” he replied. “We didn’t really make time for him the whole school year yet,” he realized, looking a bit ashamed.

“Don’t worry, Harry. He’ll understand that we have a lot on our backs right now,” Hermione comforted him.

So it was decided and the three of them turned their backs to the school at noon. The grounds were empty of any students, which wasn’t remarkable as the weather had gotten atrocious in the last weeks. They had to hold onto their scarfs and hats to keep them on their body while the wind tugged at their limbs violently.

“Hermione, aren’t you mad at us?” Ron asked on their way down. “You haven’t even scolded us so far.”

“Oh, I am mad as hell!” she informed him. “And I think Harry got away far too lightly,” she looked at her friend sternly. “You should have lost you position in the team, not Ron. I’m not stupid. That haphazard plan reeks of Potter. It was you idea, wasn’t it?”

Harry nodded ruefully.

“But I also think that you were scolded enough,” she added. “I hope you learned your lesson, but I know you too well to assume that you would never do something like that again,” she sighed. “Just try to stay alive, that would be great,” she told her friends and they nodded grinning.

“I just can’t comprehend why you didn’t simply order a broom. It’s not as if they didn’t deliver them via owl.”

Harry and Ron looked at her like she was an alien. “Hermione! You can’t order a broom that you haven’t even seen before. Unless it’s a Firebolt maybe – everything depends on quality. But every broom has its own personality,” Ron explained.

Hermione scoffed, receiving indignant glances from her two best friends.

The three of them were relieved when they reached the little hut at the edge of the Forbidden Forest and Hagrid opened the door for them. He ushered them inside, after pushing Fang from the door who was especially happy to greet his friends.

“Come in, come in. Let’s shut the wind out,” Hagrid invited them and they took a seat in front of the crackling fire. “What a weather, eh?” Hagrid smiled at them. “How nice of ye’ to come down ‘ere through that wind!”

“We missed you, Hagrid!” Harry smiled. 

“Ye’ got a lot of work, I know. I’m happy you’ve still got the time to visit. Hell, I’m glad I ne’er had to go through last year with finals and stuff!” he boomed, laughing.

“Yeah, lucky you,” Ron added, looking actually envious which earned him a jab in the side from Hermione and a laugh from Harry.

They were in the process of peeling off their layers of clothes, when Hermione’s pocket suddenly grew warm. Sighing, she fished out her Joint Mirror.

“Sorry guys, got to answer that,” she excused herself and opened the lit to find not Malfoy facing her but Theodore Nott to her surprise.

“Why do you have Malfoy’s mirror?” she demanded to know.

“Calm down, Granger,” Nott sneered. “Draco’s busy and has his hands full.”

“Well, what is it?”

“There’s a fight down here on the pitch. See?” He turned the mirror away from his face so Hermione could make out a little crowd in the shaky image. She wasn’t sure, but it seemed like a Ravenclaw had taken hold of his broomstick, flailing the tail at a Slytherin repeatedly and she paused at that image for a moment.

Nott’s face returned to the small glass. “Yeah,” he said, nodding at her flabbergasted expression. “Draco needs his little Head Girl over here, I guess,” he grinned, at which she knit her brows together.

“I thought I was not worthy enough for him?” She sighed. “I’ll be there in a minute,” Hermione ended the call closed the lid to find her friends looking at her expectantly.

“I’m really sorry. My presence is needed,” she rolled her eyes.

“Take ‘em cookies at least,” Hagrid said good-naturedly and pushed the plate towards her.

“Thank you, Hagrid,” she said, pocketing some of the rock hard sweets. “And sorry again. I guess this will take a while,” she apologised.

“No worries, Hermione,” Ron smiled. “It’s your job, right?”

She beamed at him. “See you later, guys!” she bid them goodbye and took her leave.

While marching at a quick pace towards the Quidditch Pitch, Hermione tugged her scarf tightly around her neck to fend off the winds beating around the castle grounds. She looked up to the sky and knew that it would be snowing soon, maybe in a couple of days from now. She looked forward to that. Snow made the castle even cosier and you could sit in front of the fire for a whole day to soak in its warmth.

When she reached the pitch, she came upon a small crowd of Slytherin students and Ravenclaws dressed in their Quidditch gear, Malfoy among them shouting to all sides. His attempt at establishing order, however, seemed fruitless so far, as the students continued yelling at each other and at him.

“It’s been pretty entertaining so far,” Nott greeted her grinning. He lived for drama, Hermione knew, so she just rolled her eyes at him.

She skilfully cast a Sonorous at her throat and commanded silence. To her great satisfaction, indeed everyone shut up and turned towards her. “Will anyone do me the favour to enlighten me on what is going on here?” she demanded to know.

“I’ll tell you!” the Ravenclaw captain Roger Davies came forward, an angry frown marring his face. “We’ve discovered a case of espionage on our Quidditch techniques! The Slytherins were hiding on the stands and spied upon us!” he spat.

The accused Slytherins - Hermione recognized Hanley among them - just looked at her untrusting, not offering their point of view.

Malfoy stepped forward, not quite looking at her. “Actually, some of my team wanted to see if they could do additional training. As no one signed up for the pitch and no sane person would want to fly in this weather anyways, they assumed the pitch to be empty. When they arrived they were accused of spying on the Ravenclaw team,” he filled her in calmly.

“As if!” Davies roared. “They heard us discussing about whether we could train in this weather or not at lunch! They came here on purpose and just had an excuse up their sleeves!” 

Malfoy looked like he would literally start fuming any moment.

“Did you sign up the Ravenclaws for the pitch today, or not?” Hermione asked Davies with raised brows.

“Well, no... But that’s not the point here! They tried to cheat! They should be banned!”

“Don’t exaggerate, Davies!” Malfoy bellowed. “You don’t want to incur yourself detention, do you?”

Hermione raised an eyebrow at him. Malfoy really seemed extremely short tempered lately.

“As you are way too involved in this situation, it’d be my decision how to solve it, don’t you think so as well, Malfoy?” she intervened firmly.

He whirled around to glare at her, “You owe me something, Granger, remember?” he told her, glowering.

“You really think I would let personal issues cloud my decisions as Head Girl? Don’t mistake me with yourself,” she retorted aloof.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter:
> 
> "The team is banned from the pitch for the reminder of the year. You'll be expected to call on Professor Flitwick for further punishment tomorrow." With that she turned on her heels and left the pitch fuming.
> 
> ::::::::::::
> 
> What would Ginny say, if she knew what Ron and Harry did to get her a nice Christmas present? Would she fall around their necks or would she cast a hex at them for their stupidity?
> 
> What do you think Hermione will do? The spoiler is quite telling, I know :D


	11. She's Fair

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my Lovelies :) I'm back with Hermione's decision on the Quidditch Pitch!
> 
> ::::::::::::
> 
> Previously:
> 
> "As you are way too involved in this situation, it'd be my decision how to solve it, don't you think so as well, Malfoy?" she intervened firmly.
> 
> He whirled around to glare at her, "You owe me something, Granger, remember?" he told her, glowering.
> 
> "You really think I would let personal issues cloud my decisions as Head Girl? Don't mistake me with yourself," she retorted aloof.

“I don’t see the problem here.” Hermione turned back towards the group of Quidditch Players. “If none of you has listed their team for the pitch, it is open for everyone. It’s your problem if you decide to leave your tactics open to spectators or other training teams when you didn’t even take the time to sign in a simple list. I thought you Ravenclaws were supposed to be clever.“

“What?” Davies’ jaw dropped. “You are siding with them?!” He pointed accusingly at Malfoy in place of the Slytherins. Malfoy himself looked at her no less surprised and Nott was enjoying the show immensely. 

“If you can’t accept the rules, you can’t expect others to follow them, Davies” Hermione told him sternly. “And I won’t tolerate unfair treatment of any Quidditch team, no matter which house!” At that point she shot Malfoy a glare, before turning back to the Ravenclaw Captain. “If you insist on insulting the other team, you will be banned for lacking sportsmanship.” That silenced everyone.

“I see,” Davies sneered when he found his footing again. “Trained you well, didn’t he? Are you his little Mudblood now?”

Her eyes bulged at that and she had to pull herself together immensely to not lunge at the arrogant boy. “Fifty points from Ravenclaw,” Hermione replied icily. “And the team is banned from the pitch for the remainder of the year. You’ll be expected to call on Professor Flitwick for further punishment tomorrow, Davies.“ With that she turned on her heel and left the pitch fuming. Pureblood ignorance didn’t stop at Slytherin House apparently.

“You heard your Head Girl!” Malfoy shushed the upcoming objections behind her. “Clear the pitch, or I’ll add detention for every single one of you,” he threatened the Ravenclaws.

Shortly after that, he followed her. “Wow, until the end of the year? They’ll fail every match,” Malfoy laughed when he fell in step beside Hermione.

“Consider yourself lucky that I am fair and don’t give a damn about Quidditch or I would have kicked your teams’ arse for pulling that bullshit. Don’t think I’m stupid and don’t know how your minds work. They did exactly what they were accused of,” Hermione growled.

“Yeah,” Malfoy agreed grinning, ignoring her jab at Ron’s penalty. “But we are way more clever than Davies and had an alibi. That pinhead isn’t more intelligent than the average troll.”

“Yeah, he proved that,” she agreed frowning.

Malfoy looked at her from the side but didn’t comment.  
___________________________________________________________________________________________________

Davies’ parents got an angry letter and he had to atone for his slip-up by giving up the Captain’s position and leaving the Quidditch Team. But that didn’t give Hermione any satisfaction, as word of the incident spread faster than bushfire and her name was discredited more and more with every time it was retold and exaggerated by the rumour mill. She had to endure hostility of varying blatancy with every step she took. Even in the library, where she almost always found peace, she was disrupted by sneaky third years playing their shenanigans on her. She almost never caught the culprits trip-jinxing her or drenching her lap in pumpkin juice and her homework in ink whenever one of the offending liquids was open around her.

As a consequence, she barricaded herself in her room to be able to study in peace. It was grating on her nerves and robbed her of her sleep. She practically looked like a ghost after just a couple of days and there was no end to the animosities. It started getting out of hand, especially when she came down one morning having slightly overslept and being greeted in the common room by Malfoy sitting at their table and looking at her with a worried frown.

She rubbed her eyes to shake off the sleepiness and took a second glance.

He definitely looked at her strangely.

“What?” she asked.

“You are buttoned up the wrong way,” he replied, nodding at her blouse.

Looking down, she actually found her buttons askew. She quickly unbuttoned them and buttoned them up correctly. When Hermione looked up again, he stared at her even more strangely. 

“What now?” she asked exasperatedly patting at her hair to see if it was out of place as well.

He shook his head. “You are getting way too comfy for my tastes,” he said with a frown while still looking at her blouse, or rather at her chest, Hermione realized, blushing furiously and glared at him. How dare he! She still wore a top underneath that blouse! It wasn’t like she enjoyed stripping in front of people.  
__________________________________________________________________________________________

The last Hogsmeade weekend before Christmas break was scheduled for the first weekend in December. Hermione and Malfoy had gathered the Prefects to discuss the safety measures for the trip to the village as well as activities for the students too young to visit Hogsmeade.

Hermione was in charge of distributing the tasks, when she was interrupted by a fifth year Gryffindor Prefect: “Why should we listen to her? She’s siding with the Slytherins! What kind of Gryffindor does that?!”

“Shut your damn trap, dimwit!” Sadie growled, making Hermione smile at the younger girl’s open loyalty despite being in Slytherin. Hermione must have left an impression, which was at least positive around Slytherin house.

Ron cleverly kept out of the affair, as he cherished Quidditch and didn’t want to risk the team rebelling against him like they did against Hermione. She had after all decimated their chances at winning the house cup indirectly by jeopardizing Ravenclaw’s total score. Slytherin could well come out first place if they won the next game. This prospect turned even the members of Hermione’s own house against her. The Gryffindor Prefects - backed up by the Ravenclaws - now launched into a heated argument with the Slytherins. The Hufflepuffs seemed disturbed by so much open hostility and retreated into a corner, keeping to themselves and watching the whole affair with nervous curiosity. 

“She did her job!” Malfoy suddenly roared and silenced everyone in the room. “And if any of you expects fair treatment whenever you misbehave, you better shut the hell up and mind your own business!” He really was frightening when he got all serious. The Prefects seemed stunned after that and quietly accepted their assigned tasks. Hermione was quite impressed herself by Malfoy standing up for her. That wasn’t something she had anticipated.

When all tasks were distributed, Hermione turned to Malfoy: “Do we need to discuss Christmas already? There will be some kind of activity in the Holidays, right?” 

“No, we don’t. I have wasted enough time here already because you can’t keep your housemates at a tighter leash. I have plans, you know?” he grunted while impatiently tapping his foot.

She raised her eyebrows, but before she could ask the obvious question he interrupted her: “None of your business, Granger,” he shook his head irritated at her nosiness.  
____________________________________________________________________________________  
After the meeting, Hermione decided for some alone time. Grabbing one of her favourite books from her room, she slouched on the couch in front of their fireplace to enjoy the warmth it emitted.

She read until the sun slowly set and the light got too dull to continue reading. She lit some candles and resumed her book, when the mirror entrance erupted in tell tale waves and Malfoy emerged together with a Ravenclaw Prefect.

Hermione tried to ignore the giggling girl and her dearest dorm mate as she stared intensely at the page she was currently reading. She ended up blankly focusing it until the both of them had disappeared up into his room without acknowledging her at all. For that she was rather thankful. When the noise died down completely, Hermione exhaled in relief, well knowing that they hadn’t suddenly decided to shut up but used a silencing spell to probably do the exact opposite of shutting up.

Hermione was deliriously happy that she didn’t have to listen to that.

She didn’t turn around from her place on the couch when she heard the girl leave about an hour later. Shortly after the mirror was all undisturbed again, Malfoy trudged back down the stairs as well.

“You should really contemplate your commerce with those girls,” Hermione chastised and turned at last so she was kneeling backwards on the sofa with her arms propped up on the backrest. “They might one day expect more than just a bit of fun and games.”

“What was that?” He looked at her with narrowed eyes, having stopped in the middle of the room.

She opened her mouth to repeat herself, but Malfoy interrupted her.

“No, no, no, no! You are not going there, Granger!” He advanced on her.

Hermione looked at him confused.

“I’m not one of your friends whose every step you get to improve. I don’t need your unwanted consultation!” 

She fell back on her heels with him standing in front of her now.

“I don’t care if you play little efficiency manager with those poor sods, but not with me. We are not friends, and we won’t ever be. So I don’t know where you got the notion that you can mould me into one of your little replica-puppets. I am not interested in your clever advice! Ever!” He had put his hands on the back of the couch by now, leaning even more forward and forcing Hermione to lean further back. She was completely shaken. She didn’t- she hadn’t- would never… what?!

Angrily, he pushed himself off the couch and buzzed off, leaving her behind completely stunned.  
________________________________________________________________________________________

To Hermione’s great relief, the hostility against her died down after a couple more days. She didn’t mind the comments, as she didn’t give second thought about them, but they had done everything their little beastly minds could conceive to drive her out of her favourite places and unfortunately the library was a much frequented hang out spot for the studious Ravenclaws who didn’t miss an opportunity to torment her. Luckily, Harry and Ron had her back at most times and sat with her during many of the hours the seventh years now spent between the heavily loaded bookshelves.  
_______________________________________________________________________________________  
When the first snow fell, Hermione bundled up in thick layers of clothing for the stressful task that was managing the Hogsmeade Trip. Half of the prefects were scheduled to escort groups of students on their way to the wizarding village where everyone could do their Christmas shopping. In Hogsmeade the Head Students were required to be available at all times should any problems arise, so she had agreed with Malfoy to stay at the Three Broomsticks, because it was the most public place where they were easily attainable.

Hermione had originally offered to take turns so they could do some shopping themselves, but he had declined claiming to already have ordered his Christmas presents via Owl Post. To not be forced to spend the whole trip with Malfoy on her own, Hermione had guilt-tripped her friends to join her for a Butterbeer after they had finished their shopping.

The Head Students were waiting outside the Main Entrance for the last students to leave so they could follow them and collect any stray third-years who were more curious to discover the area beyond Hogwarts’ boundaries than seeing the actual village.

Professor Sprout scurried past the two towards the entrance, her arms full of cans labelled as Unicorn Dung. Hermione wrinkled her nose at the notion of someone - probably Hagrid - roaming the Forbidden Forest to collect the stinking but valuable muck. She concluded that the Herbology Professor needed it to winterize her plants with the frost repelling matter. Hermione’s eyes followed her Professor who strangely turned back when she reached the grand doors and shot them a long look. Hermione smiled kindly at the roundly Professor but she seemed to not notice her.

Shaking her head, she felt Malfoy squirm next to her. She looked up at him, noticing his cheeks glowing red from the cold. His expression was clouded and he twitched with irritation. Hermione huffed. It wasn’t her fault that they had to wait outside. He had proposed it when Filch had tried to nag to them about filthy students dragging snow and mud into the castle while he collected the permissions for the Hogsmeade trips. Hermione had been relieved when Malfoy had been blunt about rather waiting outside, herself being too polite to tell off the grumpy caretaker.

Malfoy’s friends had just passed them, sneering at Hermione and bidding him goodbye, when a Ravenclaw Prefect who wasn’t scheduled for duty today emerged from the castle. Hermione recognized Isobel MacDougal, the girl she had encountered snogging Malfoy in their common room several times now. Hadn’t he been seeing another girl temporarily? Hermione was sure he had been accompanied by a fifth year Slytherin Girl to watch the last Quidditch match between Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff. Hermione remembered thinking that the Slytherin girl had been much too young and shouldn’t be going for a player like Malfoy.

The Ravenclaw now standing in front of them, beamed at Malfoy.

“Do you want to go to Madam Puddifoot’s or the Three Broomsticks together?” she asked him.

“Are you the last one?” he questioned, ignoring her inquiry.

“I think so,” Isobel answered not letting herself being thrown off track by his prickliness.

“Good.” He turned, marching towards the path to Hogsmeade.

Malfoy was lucky to be so handsome, Hermione mused, otherwise no girl would show any patience with him at all. Usually it took his flings only a few days, sometimes even a week to come to the conclusion that his ugly character was blemishing his pretty face enough to not be worth any emotional investment. Hermione watched Isobel keeping pace next to Malfoy and realised that she had outlasted many of her predecessors. She thought back to the deed she still owed Malfoy for walking in on them when they had occupied the Heads’ common room. That had been a month ago.

“So, what about a cuppa tea or a Butterbeer?” the girl probed, smiling kindly and holding onto Malfoy’s arm as he refused to take his hands out of his pockets.

“I’m not going anywhere with you, Isobel. I have duties,” he told her off.

“But the meeting point for the Head Students is at the Three Broomsticks anyway! Even if you can’t go anywhere, we could still stay there together.”

“No,” Malfoy answered as uncommunicative as one could be.

“You’d rather hang out with her instead of me?” Isobel gestured towards Hermione, who was following them quietly. “We could just as well get a table for our own and have a nice day together, Draco,” she whined. But then she took a step back and contemplated him. “Oh, you probably want to get something for Christmas, right? I’m sorry. I didn’t want to be nosy. If that’s the case we can still meet after you have gotten something for me,” she smiled kindly and patted his arm. Hermione wondered how someone could ever be this patient with the blond boy walking silently along the road. Isobel seemed like a nice girl, she was pretty as well. She could have anyone she wanted. 

Malfoy shook his head irritated. “I don’t know where you got the notion that I’d buy you a present.”

“You don’t have to!” Isobel said quickly. “I just thought you didn’t want me to see you buying it,” she added subdued and stared at the ground in front of her. The snow was crunching loudly under their feet and the sound filled the awkward silence between them.

“I don’t mind, if you go shopping for half an hour or so, Malfoy,” Hermione tried to lift the mood. “I’ll hold the line at the meeting point.”

He turned around towards her with a glare, pulling his arm free from Isobel’s hold. “I don’t need to go on a bloody shopping trip! There will be no presents and I don’t need you meddling in my business, Granger.”

Hermione cocked her head to the side. She knew that his fling with the Ravenclaw Prefect was nothing serious to him, but the girl seemed to actually like him and have feelings for him. It irritated Hermione to no end that Malfoy was using the girl by stalling her. “It’s okay to buy your girlfriend a Christmas Present, you know, Malfoy? That’s even considered a nice gesture, if you even know what that is,” Hermione challenged.

“She’s not my girlfriend,” he stressed and Isobel looked at him wide eyed.

Hermione could tell the poor girl was close to tears and she hoped that by now all her delusions she had towards Malfoy had vanished. Hermione didn’t wish her any harm and only wanted her to see what a git Malfoy really was. He wasn’t worth investing any form of compassion or even love in.

Isobel turned on the spot and walked back to the castle at a brisk pace. Hermione stared after her until she noticed that Malfoy had already moved on and was now several steps ahead. She quickly followed him.

“You can go after her, I don’t mind,” Hermione told Malfoy, frowning at his shuttered expression.

He simply shook his head. Usually he would have cursed her and all Muggles on earth for interfering in his affairs, but he kept walking silently, not even looking in her direction.

Hermione suddenly felt bad, even if she had done nothing wrong. She fiddled with the ends of her scarf and tried to relax, but the silence emitting from Malfoy wore her down.

“Listen, I’m sorry, Malfoy. I should have kept my mouth shut, it really wasn’t my place to interfere,” she rushed out.

“Yes,” he simply answered which threw her off track even more. Hermione stared at him incredulously and wondered if he wasn’t as cold hearted about this incident as he let on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter:
> 
> "Fucking bitch!" he grabbed her right wrist and twisted it painfully until she let the letter fall, wincing and panting heavily from wrestling with him.
> 
> ::::::::::::
> 
> Did you expect Hermione's decision on the Quidditch Pitch?  
> What did you think about Malfoy and Isobel? Any theories why he is so mean and practivcally broke up with her?


	12. She's Curious

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Previously:
> 
> Isobel turned on the spot and walked back to the castle at a brisk pace. Hermione stared after her until she noticed that Malfoy had already moved on and was now several steps ahead. She quickly followed him.

When the sun slowly started to set, it was time for the students to return to the castle. Malfoy had already headed back, while Hermione and her friends finished their last round of steaming hot Butterbeer to prepare for the trip back through the icy air. Harry paid Madam Rosmerta a generous tip and they made their way to Hogwarts through the heavy snow that had started to fall. The whole way, Ron started to rant about Malfoy’s choice of punishment for their little trip to London. Hermione could tell that he missed flying and Quidditch Practice,

“That prick deserves to get his arse whipped with that effin cane his daddy’s always carrying around.”

“Ron!” Hermione exclaimed scandalised.

“What? It’s bloody true,” he muttered. “That fucking wanker, eating shit from his mommy’s silver spoon all the time! I’d love to ram it back up his anus someday.”  
____________________________________________________________________________________

 

When she finally returned to her warm common room, Hermione discarded her heavy winter cloak over the back of the couch. She started unwinding the long Gryffindor scarf from her neck, when she noticed a book lying forgotten on their coffee table. The title piqued her interest immediately and she moved around the couch, dropping the scarf onto the cushions and picking up the book. 

Wizarding Law and the Ministry. Affiliations and their Influence on Court Ruling, it read.

She reluctantly opened it, unsure if she really should handle Malfoy’s property, but curiosity won. She only wanted to take a quick look at the table of contents to see if it proved to be as interesting as the title promised.

Suddenly, an envelope slid out from one of the pages and Hermione quickly picked it up, swearing at her carelessness. Now Malfoy would know immediately that she had touched his precious belongings, when he found his bookmark out of place.

She held onto the letter, indecisive how to proceed. When she took a glimpse at it, an official Ministry stamp caught her eye and aroused her curiosity anew. Without dwelling on her guilty conscience, telling her to preserve Malfoy’s privacy and secrecy of correspondence, she pulled the document from the already opened letter.

On top of it she recognized the addressor Mafalda Hopkirk on the official appearing document. 

Mr. Draco L. Malfoy, it read.

This letter pertains to case file number DM5974, concerning the decision reached by the Wizengamot after your hearing on December the 20th 1997. In accordance with the verdict reached during the specified hearing, the Department of Magical Law Enforcement would like to remind you to exhibit commendable conduct at all times and to abstain from the actions listed on the enclosed supporting documents. 

Without stopping to ponder on her actions, Hermione fished the rest of the documents out of the envelope. A quick glance at them revealed a list of prohibited behaviours, some of which were borderline ridiculous. She frowned and continued reading.

The MLE Department requires regular reports on you actions including, but not limited to, reports of suspicious behaviour, reports of consorting with known persons of interest, and reports of suspicious activities performed by the subject or his associates. The subject is also bound by law to notify the MLE at once of any information pertaining to illegal or treasonous activities. Withholding such information will be met with dire consequences decided on by a reconsideration of the case in court. 

In addition, the report below is to be filled in and sent via standard Owl Post to the addressor of this notice.

The next page was composed of several questions concerning lessons and after school activities, as well as requesting a list of books borrowed from the library.

Hermione looked up, when she suddenly heard Malfoy trudge down the stairs.

Unable to retain herself, she turned towards the stairwell where he emerged, his hair glistening wet from a quick warm-up shower.

“Malfoy, what is this?” she asked, waving the offending paper at the young man.

He halted briefly, staring at the missive in her hand, before he skipped the last two steps and stormed towards her, trying to rip the letter from her. Hermione evaded him by drawing back quickly.

“Give it back, Granger,” he growled dangerously. “It’s mine! Don’t poke your muddy nose where it doesn’t belong, or I’ll hex it off.”

She ignored his empty threat and danced around him again, when he tried reaching for the letter a second time.

“They still question you?” she asked stunned.

“Not your bloody business!” he roared and took hold of her left arm to pull her closer and grabbed for the letter in her other hand.

“I’ll make it my bloody business!” She writhed out of his hold. “They demand reports from two teachers testifying your mental stability and trustworthiness? It says that you have to report on your friend’s activities as well!”

“Fucking bitch!” he grabbed her right wrist and twisted it painfully until she let the letter fall, wincing and panting heavily from wrestling with him.

“How often do you have to do that?” she asked when he shoved the letter back into its envelope.

“Every fucking month,” he shot her a deathly glare. “If I ever catch you nosing about my stuff again, I’ll bloody kill you, Granger. Do you understand me?”

She nodded meekly. He seemed beyond furious and there was shame. A lot of shame that he tried to suppress desperately, but she knew him well enough to interpret his watering eyes.

He turned on his heel and strode back upstairs. Hermione heard him banging his door loudly and then there was the deafening stillness of a silencing charm.

When the emptiness he left reached her senses, outrage finally hit her full force. They were monitoring his every move, restricting his time in Slytherin House and demanding insight into his most private activities. No wonder he had his friends over so often, if he wasn’t allowed to visit them more than once a week and met another girl every month to not give the impression of pulling someone else into his troubles. But – as if that wasn’t enough – they demanded of him to rat out his friends. They had others spying on him as well, to report on him like some dystopian Nazi government monitoring dissidents!

Hermione suddenly remembered how oddly Professor Sprout had stared in their direction this morning at the Main Entrance. Malfoy had seemed to be annoyed by the cold but know she understood that he had noticed their Herbology Professor as well. He was being watched, as if he already was a convicted criminal, when he had only been the scapegoat for his father’s failure and had faced the Wizengamot out of his own volition afterwards.

Even if it already was pretty late already and Hermione felt tired from the trip to Hogsmeade, she left the Head’s common room to pay her friends a visit in Gryffindor Tower. Taking a short cut through the narrow staircase behind the tapestry of the Sneezing Sea Serpent, she made her way upwards.

Harry and Ron were tangled in an intense round of Exploding Snap with Neville and Colin, when Hermione found them in their usual corner by one of the ancient stained windows with diamond shaped panes.

Hermione didn’t sit down when Neville offered her a chair next to him, but waited for them to finish the round. She stood behind Harry instead, silently watching and concentrating on staying alert despite her tiredness. The air was warm and heavy up in the tower, heated by the large fireplace. She desperately wanted to sit down or even lay down to get some rest from this trying day, but she was on a mission and couldn’t afford to relax before she had consulted her best friends on this matter.

Ron looked up at her, when they were collecting the cards after finishing the round to shuffle them anew. “Do you need us, ‘Mione?” he asked and she looked up from the cards he rifled expertly in his hands in a hypnotizing manner.

Hermione woozily stared at him, looking back at her expectantly, before she could shake herself out of her reverie. She nodded, incapable of speaking and rubbed her tired eyes with a long yawn.

“My, shouldn’t you be in bed, if you’re that tired?” Harry chuckled. “How did you even get up the tower in that state?”

Hermione only shrugged. “Let’s get some fresh air, alright?” she asked in desperate need of cool air to wake her senses.

Her friends nodded and followed her through the Portrait of the Fat Lady after excusing themselves from their game.

The instant the cool air of the corridors hit her, Hermione’s mind jump-started again as she remembered her original purpose for coming up to Gryffindor Tower. 

“I found a letter about Malfoy’s requirements. What the court decided on to keep him out of prison,” she came straight to the point, when the entrance to the common room shut behind them again.

Harry shuffled, anxiously glancing at Ron. The redhead however just stared at Hermione, waiting for her to elaborate.

“They demand him to report on his friends and stuff, it’s really presumptuous…” she suddenly felt unsure about her intention in the matter. Why did she care again? It was Malfoy for Merlin’s sake! He deserved what was thrown his way, didn’t he? But when she looked at Harry again, who was redirecting his gaze guiltily to avoid hers, something prickled in the back of her mind.

“You knew?” she observed. “You knew and you didn’t tell me?” Hermione looked from Harry to Ron who just raised his hands caught in the act.

“Didn’t know you cared that much about the tosser,” Ron defended himself.

After all the chaos from last year, Hermione had wanted to distance herself from the stress it had caused them. Harry’s constant paranoia about Malfoy being a Death Eater, his resentment as his friends for not believing him and then finding out that Malfoy really was a Death Eater and Dumbledore had known all along – it had shattered the foundations of their friendship, left them in shambles for Hermione to pick up again. She would do anything to get back the unconditional trust they had shared before. She wanted to just let others sort out what was wrong with this world. But still, how could her friends expect her to just lie low when someone was treated with less respect than any human being deserved, no matter their past wrongdoings? She crossed her arms and fixated on Harry who was rubbing his neck, still not looking up from the ground.

“I knew you would overreact. You are too compassionate to let this rest, but you forget that he has close connections to other Death Eaters! Even if he didn’t hurt anyone yet, he still is convicted for associating with criminals”

“But he did nothing wrong!” Hermione exclaimed exasperated.

“You think so? Do you really believe he resisted to getting the Mark? Maybe he even helped his dad to hide. How else would he be still on the loose after a year?” Harry questioned.

“And that excuses treating him like this? The possibility of doing something illegal?”

“He’s dangerous, Hermione! Can you even fathom what he is capable of? Especially here at Hogwarts? He has been raised to become a Death Eater, don’t you think he was trained to be one as well?” Harry threw his hands into the air.

“So you approve of this?” she asked, looking between him and Ron, who only shrugged.

“I think it is necessary, Hermione. It is not ideal, but it serves its purpose,” Harry concluded.

She shook her head. “It isn’t fair and you know that.”

“No it’s not! But when has he ever been fair? To anyone?!” Harry shouted.

Tears were clouding her view suddenly. No, he had never been fair. Especially not to her. But how could they think themselves above the Death Eaters, if they didn’t even follow their own ideals.

“Listen, Hermione,” Harry soothed her. “We can’t change anything in this matter. It has been decided on by the Ministry and we have no influence on that decision. He hast to endure this now until he has proven himself.”

“How could he ever prove the Ministry anything? They’d always find a way to make him look bad if they wanted to. They’ll always find evidence against his trustworthiness. Don’t tell me you forgot what they did to Sirius. Even after his death, even when it was obvious that he was never working for Voldemort.”

“I know,” Harry said looking as conflicted as she felt about reminding him of his godfather’s death. “But this is beyond our influence. There is nothing we can do about it. Don’t rack your brain over this, please. This shouldn’t concern you. He isn’t worth it.”

When Hermione only shook her head again, her friends did nothing to further pacify her on the subject. They accepted that she couldn’t let go so easily when injustice was done and she was thankful that they didn’t question her. She bid them good night and returned to her own dorm, feeling drained and finding it difficult to swallow the whole affair and the inequality it involved.  
____________________________________________________________________________________  
Hermione didn’t sleep well that night. She wasn’t even surprised that, when she crept down the winding stairs to their common room, holding a purring Crookshanks in a tight embrace, she found Malfoy sitting there at the table. He was writing his report furiously with the Ministry letter next to him. He didn’t even look up, when she put down her cat and took a seat opposite to him, drawing up her knees and hugging them. The fire had burned down and a chill crept through the common room. 

She watched Malfoy ticking off question after question from the list after scribbling his answers for the required self-report. After a while, she dared to speak in a quiet voice. “Is this court decision the reason you didn’t want Isobel to be your girlfriend? Because then you’d have to report on her as well?” Hermione inquired unable to let the topic drop. 

He didn’t answer. He was too proud to reply, which was an obvious answer for Hermione. Malfoy’s rage at her nosiness seemed to have evaporated, leaving only exhaustion in his eyes. 

“You could have asked me, you know?” she said timidly. “I mean to sign that crap for you. As Head Girl I am allowed to act in the teacher’s place. I could confirm your…” She pulled a face, “...commendable conduct.”

“I don’t need the help from a Mudblood,” he told her in a tone so unmoved that it made her flinch at how soberly he used that word.

Hermione was used to him hurling it at her when he was full of rage and they were fighting to no end. But right now, he was just tired and still used that slur as if he really believed her to have dirty, impure blood.

She decided to shake off the stale taste the word left. “You still have a request I owe you, remember? I would only do it because you ordered me to,” she reminded him, extending the olive branch even further.

He huffed a mirthless laugh. “Sounds pretty illegal to me, Granger. Do you want to go to prison for forgery?”

“Nobody needs to know.”

“Just like nobody needs to know about this whole damn thing at all. Especially not some prissy cow like you,” he growled.

She tilted her head and shrugged apologetically. “I didn’t mean to pry, I’m sorry.”

Malfoy didn’t answer which she took as a cue to make herself scarce. She had offered it and now it was his place to come to her if he wanted her help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter:
> 
> "That foul git. I wish I could strangle him until his pure-blooded arse turns blue!"
> 
> ::::::::::::
> 
> I hope this whole Ministry thing isn't too confusing :D Tell me if you didn't understand something, there will be more information in the next chapters, but I'm having a hard time giving all the important information without just narrating it without any context or emotional impact...


	13. They Listen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my lovely readers :) 
> 
> I would like to thank you all for your nice reviews! 
> 
>  
> 
> :::::::::::::  
> Previously:
> 
> "Ron, we cannot follow Malfoy around at all times. He would notice something and don't you think he's being watched enough?"
> 
> "Let me try to talk to him, maybe he'll grow careless and something slips him," Hermione conceded.

The castle was slowly engulfed in its Christmas garb. In stark contrast to the barren and cold world outside, it got cosier and prettier with every day. The decorations slowly took over the castle from the torches on the walls, to suits of armour and across the four House Tables.

It was on an especially icy Monday, that the coldness beyond Hogwarts’ Gates seemed to seep through the cracks in the windowsills and stone walls. An unnatural chill haunted the students in the corridors as they hurried from heated classroom to heated classroom and avoided strolling through the halls for longer than necessary.

For the third time, Hermione reread the introduction for her Herbology homework, when a ticking noise came from the window next to her.

“Ron, Pig’s brought a letter!” Ginny called her brother as she opened the tower window and the tiny owl fluttered inside.

The usually chirpy bird settled exhausted on the table Hermione was occupying in the Gryffindor common room and fluffed its feathers, relishing the warmth of the fire the students had stoked up high that day.

Ron jumped up from his place in one of the stuffed armchairs and carefully picked up his owl. Little Pig snuggled into his warm hands and obediently stretched out its tiny foot to let Ron pluck off the rolled parchment bound to its leg.

“It’s for you as well, Ginny,” Ron said frowning at the addressee written on the unrolled letter.

His sister stepped closer and leaned over the letter next to him.

Hermione was about to turn back to her essay, when Pig hooted softly and she noticed Ron’s hand holding the parchment had started to shake slightly.

“Ginny?” Harry asked, approaching the read headed siblings staring at the letter. “Are you okay?” He raised his hand to place it on her shoulder, when the younger girl suddenly twisted away.

“Don’t touch me, Potter!” she snarled and Harry recoiled. Ginny turned and fled up the stairs to the girls’ dorms.

Harry’s gaze flickered between the stairs and Ron until it settled on Hermione who gave him a look of commiseration. She got up from her place, her homework forgotten, and went around the table to stand beside her best friend.

“Ron, what happened?” Hermione asked carefully.

He looked up from the letter at her and Harry. “It’s Percy,” he said. “He’s in St. Mungo’s.”

______________________________________________________________________________

The castle bustled with the news reaching the school via owl post the next morning. The Daily Prophet featured a page-covering issue about the incident that took place in London the night before. The Weasley siblings were missing from their classes that day, fuelling the rumours passed from student to student. 

______________________________________________________________________________

“Don’t get me wrong, I like Percy least of all my brothers,” Ron glanced at his sister, “- and Ginny. But that smartarse finally proved why he ended up in Gryffindor. He would be a real hero if he only had succeeded. But let’s not forget it’s Percy we’re talking about,” he shrugged and Ginny elbowed him while she tried to hide a grin. The Weasley siblings were surrounded by a flock of Gryffindors in their common room, having arrived from their visit to St. Mungo’s in the late afternoon. Everyone was eager to get the latest news first-hand and had therefore hauled the redheads away to question them thoroughly.

“Ron,” Seamus called over the head of Colin Creevey, who had taken out his camera shooting a photograph of Ron as if he was the latest star at Hogwarts. “How did Percy even find that wanker when even the Aurors haven’t managed to trace him after months?”

“He’s been working on researching Malfoy’s business connections for the hunt on him,” Ron answered, eager to sate the mob’s curiosity. “Apparently there was some incongruity in the files so my smarty pants brother decided to go to one of the phantom companies after work to have a look at it. Hit the unicorns-eye, the lucky sod. Found himself face to face with the Death Eater and he didn’t hide or run. My idiot brother thought he could capture Lucius Malfoy on his own! If he had called for backup, the man would have been long gone by the time they arrived, so he outright battled with him. Well, he did manage to hit him with some hexes. That’s what he says, at least. But you don’t fight a Death Eater and win, when you’re only a pencil pusher.” Ron told the tale like it was already a decades old myth. “End of story: Malfoy escaped again, hopefully he got a good dressing-down and Percy was brought to St. Mungo’s, nearly unconscious but alive. Mum had a fit, when he explained what had happened. I wasn’t sure if she wanted to strangle Percy for his rashness and stupidity or hunt Malfoy down herself to give the man a piece of her mind for hurting her baby boy.”

Hermione patted Ron on the arm when Dean and Seamus continued to bombard him with questions about his heroic brother. The attention made Ron blush as if he had been the one facing Lucius Malfoy and was now getting all the credit himself.

______________________________________________________________________________

When Hermione followed her friends to potions class the next day, she caught a glimpse of Malfoy talking to Professor Snape and then quickly stuffing a sheet of paper into his pocket, before he settled into his seat at the back of the class. Hermione assumed that their Professor had just signed Malfoy’s monthly report for the Ministry. He must have been really sneaky for her to catch on to this only now. They shared several classes and the term had started more than two months ago. Usually she witnessed his mail arriving, having opened the window in their common room several times for owls.

Hermione glanced up from her potion Draught of the Living Death at Malfoy, wondering how he managed to hide the troubles his injunctions were causing him so well. That was, when she observed him dropping powdered Bicorn Horn into a cauldron that wasn’t his. Hermione paled when only seconds later the contents started to foam. In that moment Ron turned back from his workbench where he had been cutting Snapping Weed, witnessing the bubbles soar with wide eyes.

“Mr Weasley, what do you think this is? We are not preparing your mother’s stew here,” Snape sneered at the foul odour emitting from Ron’s over boiling cauldron. That was when Ron’s potions partner Terry Boot returned from the storage room, staring shocked at their ruined potion. By now the substance had a sticky, rubber-like substance, crawling down the sides of the cauldron. Ron had turned a violent shade of red, staring mortified at his potion.

“This is the third time your potion did not meet the expectations, Mr Weasley. I advise you to get a tutor to prevent a repeat performance. Otherwise I will have no qualms dismissing your incompetent presence from my class forever,” Snape threatened in his oily drawl and continued to deduct point from Gryffindor as well as Ravenclaw, as Terry had been neglecting his potion and left it in the care of “this imbecile”. The Ravenclaw only shook his head at Ron in frustration.

Hermione had to bite her lip hard to not speak to Ron’s defence. Professor Snape would view her accusation of Malfoy as a personal offence against his authority rather than seeing reason. She had witnessed this kind of incidents often enough to be used to Gryffindors being the least favourite students of the gloomy Potions Master. She bristled however at the implication of Ron not being allowed to finish the class. Professor Snape had never before threatened to fail a student their education this actively. Hermione knew that Ron needed his Potions N.E.W.T. to have a chance at becoming an Auror like he had dreamed of together with Harry. It was moments like these that she could strangle Malfoy, who was watching the situation with a gleeful expression, despite the pity she felt for him being watched so closely by the Ministry. He was Head Boy now and was supposed to have grown up! 

______________________________________________________________________________

Even though Percy was recovering quickly and no permanent damage had been done, the incident served to spur on Ron’s hostility towards Malfoy. Furthermore, Malfoy didn’t refrain from provoking him at every opportunity by repeatedly sabotaging his school performance. He went as far as spilling ink over Ron’s schoolbooks and stealing his homework out of his satchel only to let them lie around the Head Common Room in obvious places for Hermione to find after the class they had to be handed in for. It was childish, really. Hermione didn’t understand the personal vendetta Malfoy was leading against Ron, who hadn’t had any hand in his brother tracking down Lucius at all. It wasn’t his fault that Malfoy had a Death Eater as a father.

______________________________________________________________________________

“Draco, what was he doing there? He knew it wasn’t safe,” they heard Theodore Nott’s voice floating through the hallways. Ron and Hermione halted in their tracks and stood still as stone, listening carefully.

“How the fuck do I know? He’s been around some since that Ministry shit, I guess he was running out of places to go, it’s been a year after all,” Malfoy replied to his friend. The two Slytherins were walking the corridor at the end of the passage Hermione and Ron were using. They had been on their way down to Hermione’s common room where she had forgotten Ron’s homework. He had asked her to review it before handing it in, knowing how meticulous Professor Snape downgraded marks for every mistake he found.

“I just hope he won’t drag my father into any of this,” they heard Nott continue. “I heard he’s been at my home and he probably asked for support. He should know that it would only get my father into trouble. The old man’s got enough on his back with the Ministry lately. No need to add the Dark Lord breathing down his neck for disobeying orders as well. We mustn’t help him. Lucius is lucky to get away with his failure so easily.” Nott sighed. “He shouldn’t have been so careless. What if Weasley hadn’t been alone?”

By now it was obvious what they were discussing. Judging by the echo of their voices, the Slytherins must have reached the tapestry of the sneezing Sea Serpent that was framed with Celtic coils, covering the passage. Hermione’s heart beat furiously. She prayed that they didn’t plan to use the passage as well. They would run straight into the two Gryffindors. That could only end in chaos.

“As if that nitwit had any chance of capturing my father,” Draco snorted. “It’s a wonder he’s still alive. The world would have been better off with one less of the lot.”

Hermione had to restrain Ron from bursting out of their hiding place behind the tapestry. The voices were already fading again and she wondered if Malfoy even knew about the secret passageway they were in. Why else would he be so careless to discuss this matter openly. The dungeons weren’t frequented like the rest of the castle and the Head Boy must have assumed that no one was down here at this hour, she concluded.

______________________________________________________________________________

“That foul git. I wish I could strangle him until his pure-blooded arse turns blue!”

Harry frowned and looked from Hermione to Ron and back. They had returned to the Gryffindor Common Room the instant the steps of the two Slytherins had faded, to tell Harry about the conservation they had overheard. Hermione had tried to repeat what Malfoy had told Nott, when Ron had interrupted her, still fuming in behalf of his brother. 

“He wished for Percy to be dead,” she explained to Harry. “Nothing new, considering his general hatred for Weasleys, one would assume,” Hermione shrugged.

Harry nodded understanding. They had gotten used to Malfoy’s sentiments towards them a long time ago.

“I bet he knows where his murderer of a father prowls!” Ron continued ranting. “The Prophet already wrote about him being seen close to Nott’s mansion. They probably hide him there. I wonder why the Aurors didn’t already turn the property upside down.”

“Remember what Nott said? We don’t know for sure that Lucius hides there. The ministry can’t just search the homes of random Slytherins, hoping to find Death Eaters,” Hermione reminded him.

“They’d need proof or at least a valid suspicion to do that,” Harry agreed.

“If Malfoy - Draco I mean - knows anything then we should be able to get it out of him,” Ron pondered.

“And how do you propose we do that? Not that I believe he has a clue,” Hermione remarked. “He has been cut off from all means of communication and his letters are intercepted.” 

“They are Slytherins, they always find a way to bend the rules. He could know from Nott,” Ron speculated. “They don’t observe his friends as well, do they?”

“To some extent they do…” Hermione recalled, thinking about the reports Malfoy had to do on his friends.

“I bet they’d find a way around all that. We need to do something. His father nearly killed my brother, Hermione!”

She shrugged and looked helpless to Harry who held up his hands. “I’d be with Ron, but right now my schedule is full as it is. Dumbledore demands my presence three evenings a week and I’ve got to finish my homework sometime.”

“Don’t worry, mate,” Ron reassured him. “We’ll find out without you, right Hermione?”

“Ron, we cannot follow Malfoy around at all times. He would notice something and don’t you think he’s being watched enough?”

“This is about my family, Hermione! Do you think I care for that evil ferret one bit?”

“Let me try to talk to him, maybe he’ll grow careless and something slips him,” Hermione conceded. “I’ll question Nott as well. They are quite close and Nott’s a real blabbermouth when it comes to rumours and secrets.”

“That’s my girl!” Ron smiled widely and swung one arm over Hermione’s shoulders pulling her to him. “That Head Boy is a bad influence on you, ‘Mione,” he grinned. “She’s getting sneaky like a Slytherin, right Harry?” 

“Ron!” Hermione elbowed him playfully.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter:
> 
> "Good to see you, I actually wanted to talk to you," she informed him haughtily, hoping for Nott to catch on and telling her off, being not worthy of his precious time.
> 
> ::::::::::::
> 
> I tried a different style with the beginning of this chapter, I hope you liked it and it made you curious :)  
> Do you think Hermione will be able to get some information from Draco?
> 
> This chapter is dedicated to my beta KoolStoryBro13 who provided me with some of the ideas and has helped me with my story since the beginning :)
> 
> For those who are on FFN as well: I started publishing there, so the story is a little more popular on that site. It also is in better formatting, because I haven't quite figured out how to put text in italics here on AO3. So if you want to read it in an aesthetically more pleasing way, you can find me and the story under the same name (Link is in the comments as well) :)


	14. She Spies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Previously:   
> “Ron, we cannot follow Malfoy around at all times. He would notice something and don’t you think he’s being watched enough?”

Hermione felt conflicted about asking Malfoy personal questions for the sake of getting information from him, but on the other hand he might benefit from confiding in someone, she told herself. She doubted that his friendship with Nott was in any way strong enough to share his troubles. He was a Slytherin after all. They had friendships that promised them benefit, not emotional support. She could be someone unbiased and listen to him without judging, Hermione rationalised. He could trust her.

On Wednesday, she managed to catch Malfoy alone in their office after lessons. He had taken out his folder reserved for Head stuff and drafted approval documents for notifiable afterschool activities that had to be submitted before the holidays for the New Year.

Hermione slowly stacked her schoolbooks on her table in preparation for her homework. She watched him out of the corner of her eyes, bating her time until she had pulled out her last book. “Malfoy, I wanted to ask you, if… are you alright?” she asked cautiously before adding quickly, “I mean with your father out there, not knowing if he is well. It must be… difficult.”

Malfoy looked up at her openly for a few heartbeats before he narrowed his eyes in suspicion. “What do you care?”

Hermione shrugged, unsure how to proceed without scaring him off. “I’ve seen you reading the article about him and Percy. And I- I know how it feels when-”

“That Weasley got what he deserved,” Malfoy interrupted her. “He shouldn’t have put his nose where it doesn’t belong.”

“I’m not asking about your opinion of Percy,” Hermione frowned with what she believed to be a concerned look. “I’m asking about you.”

Malfoy snorted, “Want me to lay my heart at your feet, Granger? Think again. We are not friends.”

“Sometimes it is good to empty your heart, you know? I won’t go around and tell on you, if you’re concerned for your image. My father always said-”

Suddenly, he got angry and stood up from his place. “You are not as sneaky as you think you are, Granger. I won’t fall for your subtle prying.”

“I’m not- I’m not prying!” she defended herself.

“Save the lies for the two nitwits you call friends. I’m not telling you anything!” With that he got up and left without a look back, leaving his notes still skewed across his desk. Hermione sighed.

‘That went well,’ she thought sarcastically.

Her next target was Nott who wasn’t as easy to encounter undisturbed as the Head Boy. Malfoy had noticeably withdrawn from his social activities, Hermione realised. He kept up with Quidditch practice, Head Duty and schoolwork, but his friends didn’t constantly surround him. Prior to this year, they had usually covered his back at every encounter he had with the Gryffindors and sat with him during the meals. Lately, Draco could be seen walking the halls all alone mostly. It made an incredibly lonely picture.

Hermione knew she had to isolate Nott somehow to have a chance at finding out anything about Lucius Malfoy. She’d play along with his usual insults and then subtly turn the topic towards the Weasleys somehow. If she did a good job, Nott would start to insult the Weasley Clan as Blood Traitors and incapable of wielding a wand even if their life depended on it. If Nott knew anything about Lucius’ whereabouts, she was sure his tongue would slip at that point. At least that was how the conversation she intended to have with him played out in her head.

To her surprise, she didn’t have any trouble singling him out. In fact, he approached her of his own volition.

She was returning a borrowed book to the library before its closing time with the plan to go looking for him afterwards. He must have waited there for Hermione, knowing that she would most likely show up in her favourite place of the castle at some point of the day. She handed Madam Pince the book about the magical abilities of fabrics woven from the fur of different magical creatures she had checked out the week before. That was when Nott appeared behind her out of nowhere. Hermione nearly squealed when she was confronted with his face as she turned to leave the library again. Of course he would stand directly behind her when she was just about to go and look for him. Thinking of the devil…

Hermione glared up at the Slytherin when he let out a chuckle, clearly amused at startling her.

“Nott,” she greeted him stiffly and strode past the boy, heading for the exit.

He followed her until they stepped outside the heavy oak doors and were free to talk without whispering.

“Good to see you, I actually wanted to talk to you,” she informed him haughtily, hoping for Nott to catch on and tell her off for not being worthy of his precious time.

“Yeah, I guessed that,” he said which threw Hermione completely off track and she had to pull herself together immensely to be able to close her gaping mouth again.

“You… did?”

Nott looked down at her with a patronising smile that raised her hackles. “Come on, Granger. I’m not that stupid. I had to listen to Draco rant about your nosiness for half an hour. I already expected you’d turn up at my doorstep after you didn’t get anything from him.”

Hermione balked, caught in the act. Then she narrowed her eyes, “Then pray tell me why you were looking for me?”

“Because I wanted to advise you to keep out of Slytherin affairs,” Nott answered, crossing his arms.

“Whatever.” Hermione refused to let him get to her and turned to leave.

“Listen Granger,” Nott caught her arm and pulled her back forcefully. “Draco doesn’t care a bit for your bleeding heart and he’s got enough on his plate right now. Stop prying into his affairs.”

“What is it to you, Nott?” she challenged him, trying to free her arm from his grip.

“I’m his friend and I am the one that has to listen to him ranting every time you manage to rile him up again. He isn’t allowed to so much lift a finger without the Ministry noticing so he won’t give you a piece of his mind himself. But I won’t hold back if you don’t stop meddling.”

“Are you threatening me, Nott?” Hermione asked scandalised and raised her brows.

“Just a reminder that your presence here at Hogwarts is not appreciated,” he replied. “I hope when you’ve finished your education you’ll realise that it is your time to go back to your Muggle parents and stay out of our world.”

“Fuck you, Nott,” Hermione growled and twisted out of his grip. He might be just as mean as he usually was, but he didn’t know how close his comment had hit home. There was no going back for Hermione anymore. There were no parents to return to. She had taken care of that herself, even if it had broken her heart to send them away without a single memory of their loved daughter. Now Hermione would either be part of the Wizarding World or at home nowhere.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Hermione knew that Ron would be disappointed, she had given away the only opportunity they had at finding out what Malfoy knew about his father’s hiding place. She walked upwards to Gryffindor Tower downtrodden, feeling like she had failed Ron. She was afraid that he would think that she had done it on purpose because she thought the Ministry was being unfair to Malfoy. She stepped through the Portrait of the Fat Lady behind a first-year who was just in time for the curfew and cast her a worried glance, afraid she might deduce point for his tardiness. She smiled at him kindly and sent him to bed.

“Have you already found out something, ‘Mione?” Ron greeted her, looking up from his Herbology homework.

Hermione couldn’t help but feel a tad proud that he was working on it at this hour without her pestering him about it day in and out. But then she remembered why she was in the common room in the first place and unhappily shook her head. “I messed up, Ron. I’m sorry. They both saw right through me. I guess I wasn’t as subtle as I thought.”

Ron frowned. “Don’t worry, we’ll come up with some other way to find out what they know,” he reassured her and Hermione smiled relieved. “You look tired, let’s think about his tomorrow, alright?” Ron proposed and Hermione nodded thankful and bid him goodnight.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________

She didn’t look forward to seeing Malfoy that evening anymore, but still she plopped down on the couch in their common room to read a little before going to sleep. A voice in the back of her mind screamed at her that she owed Malfoy an apology, but what exactly should she apologise for? She had asked about his well being, nothing more. She hadn’t urged him to tell her anything. Sure, she had hoped to gain some information on Lucius Malfoy’s whereabouts, but otherwise she had shown concern for a fellow student. That’s what she was Head Girl for, right? Hermione wasn’t satisfied with her reasoning. Malfoy had enough on his plate with the Ministry breathing down his neck and she had done nothing but add to that. He would be constantly wary around her now. He wouldn’t have any safe space to retreat to as they shared their common room. Hermione decided to be less suspicious of him and give him more free space to breathe in future encounters. At least that pacified her conscience a little.

She didn’t expect him to come out of his room anytime soon. Hermione was wrong however, seeing as he emerged from the stairs as the fire was slowly dying down and it was becoming harder to make out the letters of her book. She looked up when she heard him trudging down the steps and saw him heading for the exit.

“Where are you going?” Hermione couldn’t hold back the question that halted him in his tracks.

He looked up startled as he hadn’t noticed her presence and frowned. “What do you care?”

Hermione spotted the letter he was holding. “Whom are you writing to?”

Malfoy glared at her. “What do you want to know, Granger? Do you want to know what I write to my Death Eater father?” He stalked closer and rounded the couch. “Do you want to read how I congratulate him on sending that Weasley sod to St. Mungo’s? Here!” He grabbed his letter opener from the coffee table and shoved the letter at her.

Hermione had no time to marvel at the little silver dagger with golden ornaments adorning the handle, when he thrust the butt of the sharp object into her hand impatiently. She was frozen.

“Go on! Open it!” he shouted, making her flinch.

Hermione’s hands trembled lightly and she kept her gaze focused on Malfoy while she opened the letter carefully. She pulled out the parchment.

“Oh,” she said, recognizing the sigil on top of the letter. “This is your report for the Ministry, right?”

“Now you can finally leave me the hell alone and I can go and send this fucking letter with a sodding school owl because they took my own owl away!” He ripped the letter and the dagger from her hands and tapped the envelope with his wand to repair it. Pocketing both items, he was out of the door before Hermione found her voice again.

She stared after him, unsure if she should be relieved that the letter didn’t contain anything sinister or shocked that he wasn’t even allowed to keep his owl.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Hermione stayed on the couch mulling the situation over in her head. He had a right to be angry at her, she surmised. Still, she wondered why he had even shown her the letter. She should probably apologise for her unjust suspicion. Again, she hadn’t been able to hold keep her curiosity at bay. Even if he was Malfoy, it had been unfair to pry even more into his private life after all the reports he already had to fill out for the Ministry. Hermione decided to wait for his return to talk to him and picked up her book again, lightening some candles to continue reading.

When Malfoy didn’t show up even after nearly half an hour, Hermione began to wonder what took him so long. Even if he had to go all the way up to the Owlery from the dungeons, it shouldn’t have taken him more than twenty minutes to return. That was if he took the long route. There were enough shortcuts that magically skipped several storeys between the dungeons and the towers. Hermione got up and paced impatiently before she couldn’t bear waiting anymore and left through the double-sided mirror to go after Malfoy.

It was late already and Hermione snuck from alcove to alcove to avoid getting caught by the teachers or Filch. She took the hidden passageway covered by the tapestry of the sneezing Sea Serpent close to the entrance to the dungeons. The vertiginous narrow steps led through a cramped passage with a low ceiling and up towards the towers. She used her wand to shine a little light ahead but kept it dim in fear someone would notice it shimmering behind the painting of the toothless werewolf that covered the exit of the passage on the other end. She heard her breath echoing from the stone walls around her unnaturally loud, it was eerie.

When she finally reached the top of the flight, she let the magic running through her wand fade until the Lumos went out and carefully slipped the painting of the toothless werewolf on the upper end of the stairs aside to step out into the corridor.

She didn’t manage to leave the secret passage however, as a pair of hands suddenly grabbed her arms and pushed her back into the hidden stairwell. Startled Hermione gasped for air, her hand grabbing the arm that had taken hold of her, desperate to not lose her footing and topple down the near hundred steps she had just climbed. Whoever had grabbed her, pulled her back up and shoved her against the wall.

“Didn’t you spy on me enough already?” Malfoy spat at her, his wand poking into her throat. Hermione swallowed hard when she made out his eyes in the dark shadows. They were spitting hate.

“Did Weasley send you to go after me as well? That coward, hiding under this bloody cloak, thinking I’m too stupid to hear him breathing down my neck? You know what? Screw you! Screw you all, I’ve had enough.”

He pocketed his wand again and let go of her. Hermione stared at Malfoy with wide eyes, trying to make sense of his words, when he shoved something at her. Instinctively her hands closed on the velvety fabric.

“You better go and look for your boyfriend, Granger,” Malfoy sneered, before he hurried down the steps she had just climbed.

She stood rooted to the spot until he had reached the lower landing and disappeared into the corridor behind the tapestry of the sneezing Sea Serpent. Then she finally processed what he had told her. Weasley. Look for him. Ron! Where was Ron? What had he done to Ron?!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter:  
> “What did he do, oh Merlin, what has he done?” she whimpered.
> 
> ::::::::::::
> 
> How did you like it? Do you know what Malfoy gave Hermione at the end of this chapter? :)


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